That Cowboy Dream
by LadyLetters
Summary: Bella is having second thoughts about the wedding to her childhood sweetheart when a chance meeting sees her spending a sizzling night with cowboy Edward. The wedding is called off but not before Edward finds out the truth. Pregnant and alone, will Bella ever find Edward again or will he fade to a cowboy dream? AU. Canon Pairings. ExB. Weekly updates. M for language & lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**Serious Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended**

 **Slightly less serious disclaimer: Whilst I have been to the USA many times, including Vegas for the rodeo I do not claim to have an accurate knowledge of the rodeo and ranching world, unless compulsively reading cowboy themed romance counts as experience. Buckle up and hang on for the ride but do feel free to message me with any glaring issues!**

 **LL**

* * *

"To Jacob and Bella." Fine crystal tinkled musically against each other, ten glasses meeting politely over a beautifully set table. Jacob got to his feet, tall, broad shouldered and impossibly handsome in his custom made tuxedo.

"To my beautiful fiancee," he said, bestowing her with a dazzling grin. "I can't wait to make you my wife three days from now." Bella blushed as nine sets of eyes fixed her with expectant gazes. She reached for her glass to join in the second toast but misjudged the distance to the glass and knocked it over. Jacob scowled. Rose, to her right, slapped her own napkin down over the puddle of champagne with one hand and swiftly refilled the glass with her other hand. She had known Bella long enough to be alert to the results of her clumsiness.

Charlie caught her eye across the table and smiled reassuringly. The tuxedo that had looked so smart at his wedding to Sue only a few months ago looked faded and out of place in the Michelin starred restaurant. With Jacob back safely in his seat Charlie surreptitiously pushed the champagne glass to one side and went back to his bottle of beer. Sue, fidgeting beside him, looked striking but uncomfortable in a red dress. Bella couldn't help but think that her side of the dinner table looked a little like the poor relations compared to the haute couture and custom tailoring on Jacob's side.

"Amuse bouche," announced a waiter, placing what appeared to be a piece of driftwood with two carefully arranged tiny food morsels on it in front of her. Charlie looked slightly terrified at the unknown course and kept an eye on Jacob's side of the table to make sure that he was using the right cutlery.

* * *

"That was awful," declared Rose as the hotel room door swung silently shut behind them.

"That," said Bella, "was an extremely expensive meal that Jacob very generously paid for." She sat her clutch bag down beside the huge flat screen television, kicked off her high heels and sat down on the plush upholstered sofa. Through floor to ceiling windows the Las Vegas strip spread out below them, a living, writhing ribbon of life in the dark desert.

"Still awful," said Rose, flopping down onto one of the two beds in their room. She pushed her body out into a starfish shape, giving Bella an unladylike flash of the scrap of red lace that was masquerading as underwear. "I don't understand why Jacob had to insist on the wedding being in Vegas in winter." She rolled over onto her side, propping her head up with her hand, her beautiful blonde curls cascading over her shoulders. She fixed Bella with her brown eyes. "I also don't understand why we have to have some awful joint bachelor party instead of letting your friends give you a proper send off."

"It's the done thing now," said Bella, defensively, "far more civilised than one of those awful bachelorette parties you see in Forks with costumes and badges and inflatable willies." In truth Bella agreed with Rose. Jacob and Billy had insisted on their wedding being in Vegas firstly to accommodate the extended Black family and their numerous business contacts and secondly so that Jacob could tie up some business at the same time. She had originally suggested that they get married beside the lake at the big house with a few acres of land that Charlie and Sue had bought near Forks just before they got married but her idea had been quickly dismissed.

"Earth to Bella," said Rose, waving her free hand. "For somebody who's getting married in a couple of days you're very quiet."

"Just a little overawed, I guess," replied Bella with a shrug.

"You don't have to marry him, you know," said Rose, somewhat matter of factly.

"I know," snapped Bella. "I'm doing it because I want to."

"He's the first guy you've ever been with," said Rose, softly.

"Rose!" exclaimed Bella, throwing a cushion at her friend. "Just because I haven't worked my way through the whole college football team doesn't mean I don't know what I want."

"Whatever," giggled Rose, throwing the cushion straight back at Bella. Bella fudged the catch and the cushion hit the sideboard, sending lipstick, hairspray and perfume flying. Rose laughed harder and Bella couldn't help but join in. Apart from Charlie, Rose was the only person in the world who didn't make her feel embarrassed about being so clumsy. The laughter petered out and they lapsed into companionable silence.

"Come on," said Rose, sitting up straight and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Let's go out."

"Out?" said Bella. "But it's late." Rose raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. "We've got spa treatments booked in for the morning."

"It's early," said Rose, pointing at the green numbers at the alarm clock that spelled out 2315 in jarring straight lines. "Besides," she added, winking at Bella, "half the reason to go to a spa is to get over a hangover."

"I don't know," said Bella, twisting the huge diamond engagement ring absent mindedly around her ring finger.

"Please," said Rose, her voice imploring. "I'm not getting to organise a proper bacherlorette party for you, at least let us have a couple of crazy hours of Vegas fun."

"I probably shouldn't…."

"Why not?" interrupted Rose. "Are you worried what Jacob will think?"

"No," retorted Bella, a little too quickly. Besides, he would be working until the bachelor and bachelorette dinner scheduled for the next evening.

"Nobody will know," said Rose, conspirationally, sensing that she was close to eroding the last of Bella's resolve.

"Fine!" said Bella, smiling despite her reservations. "Let's go!" She stood up and started trying to slip her feet back into the high heels.

"No you don't," said Rose, looking pointedly at Bella's expensive but bland dove grey dress. "Let's get into something more fun."

Ten minutes later they were changed and ready to go. They had both dressed in skinny jeans and high heels but Rose had teamed her low cut white bodysuit with a short black biker jacket while Bella was wearing a petrol blue trench coat over a deep purple sleeveless silk blouse.

"Much better," said Rose, nodding appreciatively. "Now, take off the engagement ring and put it in the safe."

"No!" said Bella, compulsively pulling her left hand closer to her body. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because it's hanging off?" said Rose, in a tone of voice that implied Bella was stupid, one hand on her hip. "You didn't think that I meant…."

"No, no," said Bella, sliding off the ring and holding it in the palm of her right hand for a moment. Rose was right, she had lost so much weight in the run up to the wedding that the ten thousand dollar ring was in real danger of falling off. Better to leave it in the safe. She popped it into the dark space carefully, putting the weighty item on top of her passport before closing the door firmly and typing in the code to lock it.

* * *

Out on the strip the air was cool and dry. Despite the light pollution they could see the myriad of stars twinkling overhead. With unspoken agreement they walked out of the Bellagio and started heading South. Jacob and his family preferred to keep to the five star venues of Bellagio and Caesars Palace so they were unlikely to bump into somebody that they wouldn't want to see further South. To their right the Bellagio fountains pulsed in time to classical music. Bella had seen it dozens of times from their hotel room the last couple of days but there was something more immediate, more visceral about seeing it from ground level. Tourists in khakis and baseball caps posed for photographs with Minions and Star Wars characters. A man in a gold G-string and body paint was break dancing for quarters. A group of frat boys with lurid slushies in Eiffel Tower shaped plastic cups as long as their bodies didn't even bother to try to look cool as they gaped at the watery spectacle. This was Bella's first time in Las Vegas and to date it hadn't impressed her. The Bellagio was a beautiful hotel and the room where they were to have their civil ceremony was stunning, if a good bit larger than she was expecting, particularly as her own guest list barely stretched to thirty bodies however everything felt a little clinical to her, as if the place lacked soul. Yet now, out in the crowd on the pulsing, living street she suddenly felt a thrill of pleasure. She was part of the crowd, anonymous but taking part. She couldn't stop a grin from spreading across her face.

"There we go," said Rose, taking her hand in hers and squeezing it tight, "there's the Bella I know and love."

"I think I needed this," admitted Bella.

"Rose knows best," purred Rose. "Now," she said, rooting in her pocket, "I need to dance." She pulled out a five dollar bill and threw it into the little biscuit tin weighted down with quarters in front of the gold G-string man. "The robot?" He nodded, smiled, flicked a button to change the music and started moving his body like a robot. Rose immediately jumped in next to him, pulling her own moves, moves that Bella had seen many times before. The robot was Rose's party piece and she was almost as good a dancer as the gold G-string man. The frat boys started to take notice, clapping and cheering, throwing dollars and quarters into tin, almost doubling his cash haul in a few short minutes.

"You're good!" exclaimed the gold G-string man, apparently not bothered that the increasing crowd was down to the statuesque blonde and not his own moves.

"Thanks," said Rose, coming to a stop and straightening her body. "That's better," she said to Bella, "warmed up and ready to go now."

"Hey," said gold G-string man, "why don't you stay? I like having the company."

"Not tonight," said Rose, smiling, "I'm showing my friend Bella a good time."

"Have fun!" Gold g-string man pulled Rose into an impulsive hug. She hugged him back, to the jeers and catcalls of the frat boys, then extracted herself from his grasp and made her way back to Bella. "I'm here all night," he called, a little desperately, before turning his music to a new tune and resuming with his original dancing.

"Rose," said Bella, stifling a giggle, "you've got gold body paint all over your front." There was a little on her jacket. Bella rummaged in her bag and found a pack of tissues. Pulling one out she rubbed it across the leather. The gold paint came straight off. The remainder was on Rose's chest, in two round ovals on her breasts where they had mashed against gold G-string man in his impromptu hug. Bella pushed a single finger against one of the ovals. She scratched it then looked under her fingernail. A little had scraped off but the paint had sunk right into the thin stretchy cotton of the bodysuit. "Um," she said, with a grimace, "that's not coming off."

Rose looked down at her gold breasts, then at Bella. She looked at her gold breasts a second time and when she looked at Bella again there was a mischevious grin on her face.

"So what?" She shrugged her shoulders, pulling herself tall, thrusting her ample chest out the front of the leather biker jacket. "We're in Vegas and I'm already wearing gold accessories. I'll just make out I meant to look like this." She linked her arm through Bella's and started propelling her South down the strip again. Bella laughed, loud and clear. Rose looked down at her, clearly slightly shocked by the noise until she joined in too.

Even as she laughed the look of surprise in Rose's eyes struck a cruel blow. Was it really so rare that she laughed properly any more?


	2. Chapter 2

"Stick," said Edward, eying the ten of spades in his cupped hand and the eight of hearts beside it lying face up on the green felt of the table.

"Twist," said Emmett. The dealer smiled at his little brother and turned over another card for him. It was the seven of diamonds. "Shoot," said Emmett, pushing his cards away from him. "I'm bust." As the last two players made their choices the cocktail waitress passed him a beer.

"Thank you ma'am," he said, handing her a couple of dollar bills. She accepted the tip wordlessly then moved around to Emmett.

"Your Jack and coke, sugar," she said, depositing a small glass onto the table beside him.

"Thanks," said Emmett, giving her the million dollar grin that brought the sponsors as well as the girls flocking. He handed her a five dollar bill.

"I get off at 3AM," she whispered, leaning in to give him an eyeful of her cleavage. "My number's in the napkin if you want to hook up."

"I may well do that, darlin'" he said, tipping his large cream coloured cowboy hat at her. "I may well do that." Seemingly pleased she smiled and slunk off to serve drinks at the next table.

"I am so not going to do that," said Emmett, as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. He drained the Jack and coke, popped the number filled napkin onto the table and set the empty glass down on top of it. "Come on Edward," he said, "let's go."

"Still playing a hand," replied Edward, not taking his eyes off the game. The dealer was finally taking her own card. She had a three and a ten. When she turned over it was a King.

"Bust," she said. Edward's conservative play paid off and he found himself in receipt of a few more chips.

"Cash out, please," he said. The dealer changed his chips back to cash and he carefully put the notes into his battered leather wallet, left a twenty for the dealer and joined Emmett. "Do you have any cash left?" he asked.

"Nope," said Emmett, grinning. "Blackjack cleared me clean out. I'm going to have to find a cash machine."

"Blackjack?" replied Edward, raising his eyebrows. "It was poker yesterday and those little buckle bunnies the night before…."

"So?" said Emmett, without looking at him. "It's the National Rodeo Finals and we're in Las Vegas! When else do we get a chance to cut loose?"

"You're riding in three days," said Edward with a note of caution.

"In three days!" said Emmett, punching him playfully in the arm. "That gives me two days to have fun." Edward smiled. His brother's attitude was infectious. Besides, Emmett was right, between the hard graft on the family's ranch and Emmett's constant hauling from rodeo to rodeo they barely spent any time together.

"Where to next?" said Edward, taking a long draught of the cold beer.

"That's the spirit," said Emmett, punching Edward in the arm so that the beer disconnected from his mouth and some dribbled down his chin. Emmett laughed as Edward wiped the excess from his chin with the back of his checked shirt sleeve but Edward couldn't be mad at his brother. "Let's go to the Cosmopolitan," suggested Emmett, "I hear that they have a bar shaped like a chandelier."

They started walking through the massive bland interior of the MGM Grand, Edward taking deep swigs of his beer as they moved. The first time they had come to Las Vegas for the finals three years ago Edward had been worried that they would look like country bumpkins walking around in their customary jeans, cowboy boots and hats but he had soon learned that this was a place where anything goes. Women in designer ballgowns fed notes into slot machines beside leathery elderly ladies dressed in polyester and tourists in white sneakers. Plus, the finals were huge. There were cowboy hats everywhere you looked this week. There was even a Cowboy Christmas event on at the convention centre where you could buy anything from a new pair of boots to a horse trailer.

Emmett, as always, had teamed his denim jeans and tight black T-shirt with the huge gold buckle that he had won three years ago. It attracted women like magpies, obsessed by the glittering prize of a genuine rodeo champion. Emmett chattered away as they walked, seemingly oblivious to the women casting appreciative glances his way and the blokes nudging each other and cocking their heads toward the man wearing the champion's buckle. Edward finished his bottle of beer, depositing it on the top of a passing slot machine without breaking his stride and a few moments later they were crossing one of the elevated walkways to the other side of the Strip.

"Holy crap," said Edward, staring up at the thousands of crystals strung on gauzy rope that made up the glittering outline of the Chandelier Bar. "That really does look like a giant chandelier." Through the exterior they could see booths and tables inhabited by sparkly, happy people.

"Told you," said Emmett. He led the way up a couple of steps and a flirtatious hostess seated them in a round, low booth, leaving them with a cocktail menu.

"Are these really cocktails?" said Edward, squinting at the list. "Most of these sound like the contents of a poultice for one of the horses rather than a drink."

"Of course," said Emmett, scanning the list with a practised eye. "I'll have the Infinte Playlist," he told the lurking waitress.

"Good choice, sir," she said. "And you?" She addressed Edward although her eyes barely left Emmett.

"You serve beer?" he asked, tentatively, folding the bar menu over again to see if he had missed the beer list.

"Yes," she replied, just a hint of distaste in her tone. "Domestic or Imported?"

"Domestic," he replied, ignoring the roll of Emmett's eyes. "Bud if you have it."

"Coming right up," she said, taking the menus back and speeding off. They sat in silence for a moment, staring though the glittery strings at the casino beyond. It was a hive of activity, people making their way from place to place, weaving between table games and banks of slot machines. There was a hum in the air, an undertone of chatter and excitement audible even beyond the piped in pop music of the bar. The drinks arrived and Edward considered them for a moment. His was steady and comfortingly regular, the shimmer of condensation on the dark bottle with the red label comforting even in the new surroundings. Emmett's was closer to something that would come out of a drinks machine on Star Trek. It was served in a shiny copper cup and heavily garnished. Despite his confidence in ordering Emmett sniffed it suspiciously to check that it really was a bourbon cocktail before taking his first sip.

"Check out those girls," said Emmett, leaning back in the booth and draping his arms across the back.

"What girls?" asked Edward.

"Over there," he cocked his head to a table at the opposite side of the bar where two girls, a blonde and a brunette had just sat down. The blonde took off her biker jacket and slung it over the back of a chair, revealing a killer body, white bodysuit sliding into high waisted skintight black jeans. "That blonde is hot."

It wasn't the blonde that Edward noticed, but the brunette. She was almost as tall as the blonde but slimmer, with shiny dark hair that slid down her back in soft waves more mesmerising to him than the undulating crystal strands of the bar wall behind her. She was dressed more conservatively than the blonde, covered up in a sleeveless purple blouse that skimmed her curves and set off her pale skin and dark hair yet she was luminous to him, a soft jewel in a place that he associated with hard edges and even harder women. She smiled at her friend and his stomach did a little lurch as she revealed straight white teeth and a slight crinkle around her warm glittering eyes.

"She is smoking hot," said Emmett. "I'd love to take her home tonight."

"It's that easy for you, is it?" said Edward, drily. "See a girl, take her home, say goodbye in the morning?"

"One of the perks of being a professional bull rider," Emmett replied, smugly. "In fact," he said, springing to his feet, "I think I'll just mosey on over there and get us an invitation right now."

Edward watched as his little brother got to his feet, pulling himself up to his full six feet four height and walking across to the two women. He tipped his hat, introducing himself. Edward's stomach lurched again as Emmett pointed at him and the two women followed his finger with their eyes. They both turned back to Emmett again as he continued to talk but Edward noticed that the brunette gave him a second, fleeting glance. His stomach did a little twist again and he took another sip of his beer to settle it and to give his suddenly twitchy hands something to do. A moment later Emmett sat back down at the table.

"Struck out?" asked Edward.

"No, not at all," said Emmett, although Edward could see that behind his usual bluster that Emmett was slightly deflated. "They're just having a girls night and don't want any male company."

"Even Emmett Cullen company?" said Edward. He blew out, whistling through his teeth. "Must be lesbians or something then."

"Shut it," said Emmett, kicking Edward under the table as his face went a little red. "It's early yet," he continued, the determined set of his chin indicating that this was far from over for him. "I'm sure we'll have a chance later on." Edward followed his brother's gaze to the two girls, deep in discussion, seemingly not aware of the fact that Emmett was still staring at them. It will do him good, thought Edward, to have to work at things like the rest of us instead of having women offer themselves to him on a plate all the time. He took another long swig of his beer and tried not to stare at the gorgeous brunette.


	3. Chapter 3

"Excuse me ladies." It was the cowboy again, his tall mass towering over the table, hat in hand this time revealing boyish blonde curls topping his dimpled cheeks and blue eyes. "I don't mean to interrupt but my brother and I are moving on and I just wanted to wish you a good night."

"Thanks," said Rose dismissively, barely looking at the cowboy.

"And, uh," he started to falter, the confidence leaking away. Bella wished that Rose would at least look at him and put him out of his misery.

"Yes?" said Bella in a friendly tone, trying to encourage him to get his words out.

"My brother and I," he said, a little more clearly, flashing a small smile at Bella to thank her for the encouragement, "are heading onto the Rock Bar on the Miracle Mile. If you get bored on your girls night out you're more than welcome to join us."

"Thanks," replied Rose, flashing him a brief smile before turning her full attention back to Bella. "We'll think about it." He popped his hat back onto his head, collected his brother and walked out of the bar and onto the casino floor.

"Oh wow," she said, leaning forward in her chair to talk softly but urgently to Bella as soon as the two men were out of earshot. "That cowboy was so hot."

"Hot?" replied Bella, slightly confused. "You barely gave him the time of day."

"Bella, Bella, Bella," muttered Rose, sinking back into the plus chair, "you have been out of circulation for a while, haven't you?"

"What?" snapped Bella. "Since when is it old fashioned to think that if you like a guy you should just tell him instead of playing games?"

"The whole thing's a big game," declared Rose. "A guy like that will get girls hitting on him all the time. If you make things a bit harder for him it's like a big game. He won't quit until he wins." She finished her cocktail and waved at the waitress to bring a second round. "Besides," she said, a filthy smile spreading across her face. "When you play games with someone like that the prize is always one worth having."

They had another botanical themed cocktail at the chandelier bar then wandered onto the main casino floor to play some slot machines. Bella, much to her delight, immediately hit a bonus on a Walking Dead machine and doubled her money. The blaring music and clips from the TV series were surprisingly hypnotic and she started to understand how Jacob's businesses did so well. Blood pumping she put her winnings into a Sex and the City branded machine and promptly lost half again in a few spins. With her cautious head firmly screwed back on she cashed out and followed the sound of excited shrieks to find Rose sitting in front of an old fashioned Goldfish machine. The dials twirled and the goldfish swam between the bright lights as the bonus continued and the box that marked her winnings kept increasing and increasing.

"A hundred dollars," she squealed, "I only put ten in."

They toddled around the casino floor a little longer but none of the other machines seemed to be as friendly and they quickly grew bored.

"Why don't we head across to the Rock Bar?" said Rose, nonchalantly.

"The Rock Bar?" said Bella, pretending that it was the first time that she had heard that name. "I'm not sure, why would we want to go there?"

"It looks like fun," replied Rose.

"Oh, I don't know," said Bella, slowly. She looked at Rose, expectantly.

"Fine," said Rose, a slight flush rising on her cheeks, "it might have something to do with that hot cowboy."

"The truth at last," said Bella. "Given that he's made you blush then this is something that I have to see." She pulled on her trench coat again, buttoning up the front and cinching the belt tight around her waist. She could barely admit it to herself, let alone Rose, but there was an imperceptible tremble in her hands at the thought of seeing the cowboy's brother again. He hadn't been flashy or cocky like his brother but there had been something about him that she couldn't forget, something that went beyond the cowboy hat and checked shirt of her childhood fantasies. His eyes were neither blue nor brown and she yearned to examine them up close. His face was slim and chiselled, high cheekbones almost feminine but the defined jaw unmistakable male, even next to the brother that appeared to have been carved out of granite. He had inhabited his space quietly but unapologetically. She tried to shake his image, and the sneaking suspicion that agreeing to go this particular bar was a selfish act, out of her mind. She was marrying Jacob in three days, after all.

* * *

The PBR Rock Bar was loud. Footage from the days rodeo events was being replayed on big screens around the bar. Every table was filled, many with groups of cowboys and girls in short denim skirts and cowboy boots. A country rock band played in one corner and couples whirled on the dance floor in a surprisingly old fashioned style. A mechanical bucking bull moved, riderless, in another corner. The inside was dimly lit but Rose managed to spot a couple leaving the bar and streaked ahead to grab their space. The seats were still warm as Bella and Rose sat down on the high dark wood stools. Bella watched the couple as they left. They must have been in their late sixties. He was small and noticeably bow legged. His boots were highly polished and his wrangler jeans ironed to give a rigid crease front and back. He carried himself straight and with pride. The arms of his checked shirt too had defined creases. As they crossed his bar he reached out to grab his wife's hand. She too was in ironed wranglers, but her jeans were tucked into boots embellished with rhinestones, like the rhinestone design on the back pocket of her jeans. Her hair was dyed several shades too dark for her face and styled in an old fashioned manner but when her husband looked at her from under the brim of his hat he smiled at her as if she was the only woman in the universe. She looked back up at him fondly, squeezing his hand and closing the gap between them.

Bella felt guilty for watching their private moment but couldn't tear her eyes away. Her mother had died when she was young and she had no role model of what a long term happily married couple should look and act like. Sure, Charlie and Sue were happy but they were obviously still in that first flush of love. It was nothing like this, faded but precious. Is that what her and Jacob would be like in the future? Try as she might she couldn't fast forward their lives in her head. She didn't even know what she would be like in thirty or forty years let alone Jacob. If Billy Black was anything to go by he would still be running the family business.

"Earth to Bella," bellowed Rose, interrupting her thoughts.

"Oh sorry," said Bella, "what is it?"

"The barman has asked you three times what you want to drink." A slightly annoyed looking man stood, looking at her and awaiting a response.

"What are you having?" asked Bella, a little flustered.

"Jack and coke," said Rose.

"The same please," said Bella, relieved not to be on the spot any longer.

"Attention folks," said the lead singer of the band. "It turns out that we have a bona fide bull riding champion in the bar tonight." A ragged cheer bubbled up and people started looking around to see who it was. "Emmett Cullen, overall champion three years ago!" The cowboy from earlier was standing next to the mechanical bull. "He's going to show y'all just how it's done!" The ragged cheer increased to a crescendo. The music started up again and Emmett mounted the black and white painted mechanical bull. The crowd surged closer as he got a good grip on the leather strap with his right hand and thrust his left hand up in the air to indicate that he was ready. Bella glanced across at Rose who was watching the scene closely. Unconsciously she licked her lips as the bull started moving and Emmett's hips started moving in time with the movement. Bella noticed that the brother was standing by, face grim.

The bull moved faster and faster and faster but Emmett hung on, smiling and waving his hat, making it look easy. When it became clear that the bull was going as fast as it could and that he would not be dislodged he jumped off, waving his hat theatrically behind him as he landed easily on two feet, drawing whoops and cheers from the crowd as he bowed.

A young cowboy, barely out of his teens was waiting to jump on the bull straight after Emmett. After a promising start he was thrown off face first into the padded surround within six seconds. His quick failure made Emmett's feat all the more remarkable. Rose smiled and when Bella followed her gaze she realised that Rose was smiling at Emmett and that he was grinning back. He started to close the gap between them, his brother in tow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, wow, wow! Given the immense reaction to the first three chapters I have to surmise that everybody else on FF likes cowboys as much as I do! Thanks for all the love and enjoy Chaper 4. LL xx**

* * *

"What the fuck were you thinking?" said Edward. "Finals are in two days. What if you got injured?"

"But I didn't," said Emmett, not even turning to look at Edward as he smiled at the flashy blonde across the room.

"Shit Emmett," said Edward, shaking his head. "You didn't make the cut for the last two years and no matter how cute those dimples are the sponsorship money is going to start to dry up if you don't place at the finals this year."

"Don't you think I know that?" said Emmett, turning to face his brother at last. The cocksure veneer leaked from his demeanour. "Don't you think that I'm painfully aware, every moment of every day that this could be my last year bull riding professionally? Shoot," he said, taking his hat off and running a hand through the blonde curls, "sometimes I even do things that are dangerous or stupid because in the back of my mind I know that withdrawing due to injury would be better than straight out losing."

"Let's just keep you in one piece until the final," said Edward, putting a reassuring hand onto his brother's arm. "You can decide after that whether you want to keep going."

"And in the meantime," said Emmett, popping his hat back on his head, "I'm going to introduce us to those two hotties from the Chandelier bar." With a resigned sigh Edward squared his shoulders and followed his brother who was already making a beeline towards the bar.

"Howdy pretty ladies," said Emmett, fixing the blonde with the smile that sent the sponsors searching for their cheque books.

"Howdy," said the blonde. "Pretty impressive show up on the bull there." Emmett preened, starting to move into the aw, shucks routine that the girls usually loved. But before he could start the blonde cut in again. "Do you find that usually makes the girls drop their panties?" Edward stifled a laugh. He liked her already.

"Um," said Emmett, clearly not sure how to continue, "would you still want to talk to me if I said yes?"

"Sure," said the blonde. "I admire honesty." She stuck out a hand to him. Again, it seemed to unseat him as if he wasn't used to shaking hands with ladies. "Rose," she said as he shook it, "and this is my friend Bella." The brunette waved slightly from behind her drink. Perhaps she was shy, thought Edward, as she was clutching it so hard that her knuckles were almost white.

"I'm Emmett," he said.

"I know," said Rose. "In fact, after that little stunt everyone in here knows that."

"Okay," he said slowly, looking at Rose as if she was some sort of alien. His eyes moved to her chest, drawn to the gold ovals on her breasts. His eyes returned to her face and she looked at him defiantly, daring him to ask her about it. He decided against it. "This is my brother, Edward."

"Nice to meet you, ladies." There was a moment of slightly uncomfortable silence. "Can I get you another drink?"

"That would be lovely, Edward," replied Rose. Edward could see Emmett scowling, clearly wishing that he had thought of simply buying them a drink. "Jack and coke for both of us, please."

Edward ordered another round of drinks.

"Thank you," said Rose. As she took the drink from Edward she licked the straw suggestively before putting it between her glossy red lips and taking a sip. "So," she said to Emmett, who was transfixed, "is that a buckle on your pants or are you just pleased to see me?" Emmett grinned, a mixture of pleasure that Rose was flirting with him, with just a hint of terror at her forwardness. Edward had nearly choked on his own beer.

"Rose is pretty forward," said Bella, addressing him directly for the first time. She had a nice voice, he thought, warm in tone and soft, just soft enough that he had to move in closer to hear her properly in the loud bar.

"She certainly is," replied Edward. "To be honest I don't think I've ever seen my brother that rattled by a woman."

"She tends to have that effect on men," said Bella, smiling. Her smile was lovelier close up than it had been from a distance in the bar. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with warmth and a slight hint of mischief yet there was also reserve there, a slight wariness that hinted that there was always a part of her that would be held back. He longed to break down her reserve, to make her his. His mind wandered for a moment until he realised that he was still staring at her eyes. With an effort he brought himself back to the moment.

"My brother is used to women falling at his feet when he sees that buckle, I'm not sure he knows how to approach Rose at all."

"With caution!" Bella laughed and he joined in. It felt good to chat to her. He quickly discovered that like the relationship between him and Emmett that she was used to being in the shadow of her flashier, more outgoing friend.

"So," she said, after a while, "how many acres is this ranch of yours?" Edward winced automatically. "What is it?" she asked, her forehead scrunching adorably. "Have I done something wrong?"

"It doesn't matter," said Edward quickly, "you're not to know."

"What doesn't matter?" asked Bella, blushing. "It feels like I've made some sort of faux pas but I'm not sure what it is."

"Well," said Edward, suddenly wishing that he had been able to mask his reaction, "in ranching circles it's considered extremely rude to ask somebody how big their ranch is. It's the equivalent of asking somebody how big their bank balance is."

"Oh," said Bella, colouring and taking a sip of her drink. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

"Why would you?" said Edward. He longed to put the natural smile back on her face. The band started to play a song that he knew and he dropped his drink onto the bar. "Come on," he said, "let's dance."

"Oh, I can't," she said, blushing even redder, "I've got two left feet. I'm a terrible dancer."

"Look at the dancefloor," said Edward, "dancing western style is more stomping around the dancefloor and doing the occasional twirl than real dancing." She looked at the dancefloor, still not sure. Couples stepped and twirled and some just trudged from foot to foot as they held each other.

"Fine," she said, after an excruciatingly long delay. "I'll live dangerously for once."

As soon as Bella slipped off the bar stool Emmett took her place. He and Rose were deep in conversation, barely aware of anybody else in the room. Edward guided her to the dancefloor with a gentle hand in the small of her back, enjoying the feeling of the silk blouse and her warm back underneath it. The first few steps were tentative but Bella soon picked up the rhythm of the music. He twirled her under his arm then pulled her into waltz hold and whirled her in a circle, pleased when she laughed in delight, her head thrown back in sheer enjoyment. It was as he held her in waltz hold that her first noticed her scent. It was unusual, not a scent he recognised. It was subtle, floral. Freesia or perhaps a hint of lavender. He didn't know but what he did know was that he wanted to smell more of it.

The upbeat song stopped and a slow song started. He wanted to hold her close and sway along with the other couples but a slight, almost imperceptible, stiffness crept into her posture and changed his mind.

"Come on," he said lightly, trying not to look like the kind of man who sniffed women on a regular basis, "let's go and get some more drinks." His heart sank a little as relief flashed over her face.


	5. Chapter 5

Bella's heart hammered in her chest as she followed Edward across the dancefloor. He had tried to hide it but she could tell that he wanted to slow dance with her. She had virtually recoiled from him. Not because she didn't want to dance from him, far from it. She was scared. Scared of what would happen if he held her in his arms and looked down at him with those clear green eyes. It had been dark so she hadn't been sure at first but finally she knew that the not brown, not blue eyes that she had first noticed in the Chandelier bar were green, clear and intelligent and brimming with compassion.

"So," she said, as they stood awkwardly beside Emmett and Rose who were still on the bar stools. Their heads were almost touching and they were clearly not aware that Bella and Edward had returned from the dancefloor. She tried to steer the conversation to a safer zone. "So," she started again, "what do you do on the ranch?" He smiled, seemingly pleased by the open question.

"Well," he began, "the key purpose of the ranch is breeding cattle and the whole family is involved in that." She nodded, encouraging him to continue. "But I've started a little offshoot business breeding livestock for the rodeo."

"What livestock?" she asked.

"Mostly bulls," he said, "for the bull riding obviously, but recently I've branched out into horses as well."

"How do you just branch out into horses?" asked Bella, genuinely interested in his business.

"Well," said Edward, "the mare that I won the team roping on with Emmett retired from competition and with a good few breeding years left in her I found a stallion and hey," he shrugged his shoulders, "the rest is history."

"Wait a minute," said Bella, "I thought that Emmett was the rodeo champion? If you won too where's your buckle?"

"At home," he said, dropping his gaze with a self-deprecating look. "I find it attracts the wrong type of attention." After a moment he continued and she had the feeling that he was telling her something that he wouldn't tell just anybody. "Besides, it's Emmett everyone remembers because he won the bull riding that year as well. Nobody wants to talk to the other brother."

"I do," said Bella, her hand finding his arm seemingly without her having voiced any desire to touch him.

"You're the only one," he laughed and it was slightly bitter. "Emmett's the man with the million pound dimples. Better him in front of the cameras courting the sponsors and me in the background building a business that keeps us involved in the rodeo after his retirement." She stayed silent, somehow aware that there was more to come. After a moment he continued, softly, not looking at her. "The rodeo, it's like a family, you know?" She nodded. "The same people on the same circuit, week after week, the excitement of the crowds and the prize money and the danger. Emmett's getting a bit old to keep doing it but he won't stop because the family ranch in Butt-hole Montana seems like the back end of beyond after living this lifestyle."

"He doesn't look old," she said, eying Emmett's broad shoulders and bulging biceps.

"He's not old in the sense of years," said Edward, "but when you get to your late twenties you lose the resilience of your teens and early twenties. An injury will be worse than on a younger guy, recovery longer. You start to ache in the mornings." He cocked his head around the bar at the groups of young bucks. "Plus," he said, with a wry smile, "there's always somebody younger coming up and snapping at your heels. Our brother Jasper is fifteen and champing at the bit to leave school and get on the circuit. His girlfriend Alice is already a champion barrel racer. Rodeo's in the blood when you live somewhere like we do." He sighed. "Sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to talk you into a coma."

"No, no," she assured him, "it's interesting."

"I've just been yammering on about myself," he said, his mouth twisting into a smile. "Tell me about you. I want to know all about what makes Bella tick." A wave of pure panic washed over her. What could she tell him? What couldn't she tell him? Why did every instinct in her body cry out telling her not to tell Edward about Jacob although she didn't want to lie to him. Fate intervened when a country song that she actually knew came on.

"Oh, I love this song," she gushed, "why don't we dance again?" He looked at her strangely but didn't object when she practically sprinted toward the dancefloor. They eased back into it easily and Bella was surprised to find that she was actually enjoying herself. Dancing usually instilled complete terror in her but with Edward it was easy. He guided her effortlessly with a steadying hand here and there. She found that she wasn't self-conscious, just one of the crowd for once. The song came to a crescendo and he spun her around and around, half a dozen times in a row, stopping her by pulling her into waltz hold. She was a little dizzy and made the fatal mistake of steadying herself on him and gazing up into his big green eyes.

A slow song came on and he started to sway in time to the music, keeping a safe distance between their bodies. There didn't seem any harm in it so she swayed with him, suddenly aware of the heat of his body and every tiny movement of his hand against her back. She felt like everything was a little foggy, like there was something that she should have remembered but couldn't. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to move her body closer to his and rest her head a moment on his shoulder like other couples nearby were doing. His shirt was soft clean cotton, comforting against her cheek. His scent was all man, citrus and fresh but with a touch of musk that spoke volumes. She lifted her head and gazed again into his eyes. He leaned down and touched his lips to hers.

Jacob! She sprung from Edward like he had bitten her. "Sorry," she said, "I'm sorry." He stood dumbfounded on the dancefloor as she backed up until she hit a table, turned herself in the right direction then ran. She ran straight towards the door with no thought of Rose. A row of yellow cabs were waiting outside and she dived into the first one, mumbling that she wanted the Bellagio before breaking into floods of tears. What had she done? She was getting married in three days. In fact, she looked at her watch, it was the middle of the night so technically only two days. What the hell was she doing flirting with a sexy cowboy? She tried to think of Jacob, she tried to picture his eyes. Whilst images of him as a seventeen year old were fresh in her mind; the summer when they had worked on her car together, senior prom and swimming at La Push she couldn't picture him now, the businessman, her fiancé. She knew he had brown eyes but every time she tried to recall the face that they were set in all she could see were Edward's eyes, honest and green. She burst into a renewed flood of tears and slumped further into the seat of the cab.


	6. Chapter 6

What the hell had he done? Edward stood alone on the dancefloor, still not quite sure what had just happened. Given her reserve earlier he had been surprised how easily she melted into his arms at the start of the slow dance. She was slim and fragile, her heart hammering so hard and fast in her chest that he could feel it. It was like holding a skittish colt and those he had experience of, so he just held her and let her set the agenda, swaying slowly in time to the gentle beat overlaid with melancholy words. When she rested her head on his shoulder, filling his nose with that wonderful floral scent he had breathed her in deeply and felt his own body start to react to her. When she gazed up into his eyes, her dark eyes sparkling, almost liquid, it felt as if she was telling him that she was ready. She even closed her eyes with an almost imperceptible smile when his face got close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her cheek. Yet when his lips touched hers it had been as if he had thrown a bucket of cold water over her. Her eyes widened and she took an immediate step back from him, touching her fingers to her own lips as if making sure that she was real, that the kiss had been real. Then she backed away, confusion in her eyes, until her bottom hit a table at the edge of the dancefloor. She steadied herself against the solid wooden bulk then turned and literally ran towards the door. He cursed himself for being too shocked to try to stop her or follow her.

"Hey," said Rose, pulling herself upright from where she had been whispering something into his brother's ear. "Where's Bella?" Emmett sat upright too, looking a little dazed. The way that he moved to readjust himself in his seat made Edward aware that he was probably suffering from the same issue that dancing with Bella had caused him.

"She left," he replied, flatly. He noticed that Bella's trenchcoat was still draped over the back of the seat that his brother was sitting on. He had the romantic notion for a moment that Bella was like Cinderella, rushing away and leaving an item of clothing behind as a tantalising clue. Yet as soon as that thought formed the sensible part of his head dashed it. He was no prince and it was well past midnight. The fact was that whatever deep and meaningful connection that he had falsely concocted in his head that the moment his lips touched hers she had fled. The chances of him ever seeing her again were slim.

"What the hell did you do?" said Rose, eying him suspiciously.

"Nothing," he replied, indignantly. "We were talking and dancing then she just took fright and ran off."

"Bella's gone?" Her nose wrinkled up as if she couldn't quite believe it.

"Ran straight out the door," he confirmed with a self-deprecating smile and shrug that didn't quite cover the heartache that he was struggling to hold down.

"Way to go bro," said Emmett, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"That's not fair, Emmett," said Rose, sharply enough to stop Emmett continuing with whatever derogatory comment he was halfway through slurring out. "Don't take it personally Edward," said Rose, in a slightly kinder manner. "Bella doesn't have much experience with men." Edward thought about this for a moment, not sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing but filing it away carefully in his memory banks for future analysis nevertheless.

"Right boys, I'd better go," said Rose. She pulled herself to her feet, a little unsteadily and kissed Emmett on the cheek. "Nice to meet you."

"Can I have your number?" said Emmett, with the swagger of a man used to getting his way.

"No," said Rose, nonchalantly. "I know where you'll be tomorrow. If I see you, I see you, if not then it's been fun." Emmett's face fell and for a moment Edward saw his brother as a mirror of what his own face must have looked like when Bella left him behind.

"Tell you what," said Edward, in his best sensible voice, "why don't we share a cab. I would rest happier tonight if I knew that you were safely back at the hotel."

"My, my," said Rose, with a smile, "are all cowboys such gentlemen?"

"Not all of us," growled Emmett. Rose turned and looked at Emmett through lowered lashes. The flash of lust that passed between them was palpable, hot enough that Edward had to take a step back to make sure that his eyebrows weren't singed. He cursed inwardly. Emmett would surely call him a cock blocker tomorrow, there was no doubt that if he had not scared Bella off that Emmett and Rose would be relocating to somewhere quieter. Rose finally dragged her gaze away from Emmett and grabbed Bella's coat as well as her own clutch bag.

"Come on," she said, firmly and clearly. "I want to get back and check on Bella." Edward admired her loyalty.

They got into a cab and Edward stared out of the window for a few moments, pretending that he didn't know that Emmett and Rose were necking like teenagers on the seat beside him. They dropped Rose off at the Bellagio where she strode into the brightly lit foyer without a backwards glance.

* * *

The motel was close to the rodeo ground and the car park was filled with SUV's and trucks. Even at 2AM lights blazed around the complex. People sat in the parking lot or on the walkways, smoking, drinking, just chewing the fat. They said hello or nodded to several people that they knew on the way back to their room. When they shut the door behind them Emmett was the first to speak.

"I was this close," he said, pointing to a tiny space between his thumb and forefinger, "this close to getting her back to the room."

"Sorry," said Edward with a grimace.

"Come on, Rose isn't listening in now, tell your little brother what the hell happened out on that dancefloor?"

"Nothing!" said Edward, indignantly. He went to the mini fridge, took out a couple of beers and passed one to Emmett. "Okay," he admitted. "I might have kissed her."

"So what?" said Emmett, throwing his bulk onto one of the two double beds covered with chintzy flowered bedspreads, his bulk making the whole bed bounce. "From what I could see she was giving you the come on."

"That's what I thought," said Edward, twisting the top off the bottle and throwing it into the bin with a metallic rattle. "I don't want to sound cheesy but I thought we really had a connection."

"Could you have misread the situation?" asked Emmett. Edward considered it for a moment, replaying the last few moments of the evening in his head. The way that she let him hold her. The way that she put her head against his chest. The way that she looked up at him with those liquid brown eyes.

"No," said Edward, shaking his head. He sat down on the rickety wooden chair tucked under the desk, putting his feet up on the same bed that Emmett lay on. "No, I'm absolutely sure that I was reading things right."

"Then it's not you that spooked her," said Emmett. Edward considered this possibility.

"Then what did?" he asked.

"How the hell should I know," said Emmett, shrugging his shoulders. "She could be a nun. She could be a lesbian." He raised his eyebrows and wiggled them, letting Edward know exactly what he thought of that idea. Edward shot him a warning glare. "She could have a husband tucked away somewhere?"

"Enough," said Edward, quietly but in a tone that let Emmett know not to push it. "Did Rose not say anything about Bella?"

"We weren't really talking about her friends," he said with a smug grin. "If you know what I mean."

"Nothing?" said Edward.

"Sorry dude," said Emmett.

"So, what about Rose then?" Edward changed the subject, frustrated with the lack of progress. "She doesn't seem like your normal type."

"She's not," replied Emmett, with that million dollar grin. "You know she's a lawyer."

"Really?"

"Straight up," said Emmett. "She works for one of the big law firms in Seattle."

"Beautiful and smart? Definitely not your type," quipped Edward. Emmett twisted the top off his own beer and threw it at his brother. Edward swatted it away easily and it landed a few feet away on the sticky carpet. Edward looked at it for a moment then picked it up, dropped it in the bin then resumed his position.

"She's just different," explained Emmett. "Clever and smart and sassy…."

"A challenge?" suggested Edward. "You've barely had to work for a woman since you got that buckle."

"Well, that's part of it," said Emmett, "but not all of it. I sure hope she comes to the Downtown Hoedown tomorrow."

"You invited her to the Hoedown?" said Edward, incredulous.

"Well, that's where we'll be," said Emmett.

"Sure," replied Edward, "but those girls are staying in the Bellagio. Do you really think that they are going to come Downtown? Let along coming to the Downtown Hoedown which will be full of drunk cowboys letting off steam."

"Rose isn't like that," said Emmett, shaking his head vigorously, "she's small town Washington State born and bred, no airs and graces. And," he added with a self-satisfied grin, "I'm pretty sure that she'll be there tomorrow night."

"I'm glad to see that you're so confident," said Edward, drily. "Let's hope that she brings Bella along as well." He didn't need to add that he wanted to talk to her, to find out what he had done wrong because Emmett already knew. "Come on," he said, putting his half drunk beer to one side, the cold liquid suddenly tasteless. "We said we'd go and watch May Wexler in the barrel racing tomorrow morning. We should turn in."

"We're really going?" said Emmett, wrinkling his nose. "May's a moose."

"May's our neighbour," said Edward, firmly. "Plus she's got a couple of the same sponsors as you so it will do you both good to be seen there."

"Fine," said Emmett, kicking off first one scuffed boot and then the other, pushing them off the end of the bed and letting them drop loudly on the floor. Scowling, Edward picked up the boots and stacked them neatly beside his own. "We'll go and watch May the moose."

"And?" said Edward.

"And I'll put on the right T-shirt and make sure the press sees me," finished Emmett. And then, thought Edward to himself, we'll go to the Hoedown and hope that Bella and Rose turn up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey y'all, sorry it's been a couple of weeks since I posted, I've been in Las Vegas on holiday! Two chapters today to make up for it!**

 **LL X**

* * *

BUZZ.

Bella rolled over. The room was still pitch black and her mouth was dry. But what on earth was that noise?

BUZZ. BUZZ. It came again, this time more insistent. She picked up the phone from the side of the bed, wincing as it sprang to life, the bright light hurting her eyes. It was 9.45.

"No!" said Bella, out loud.

"What the fuck is it?" came Rose's voice from far underneath a rumpled comforter.

"It's nearly ten. We've slept in. That'll be Rachel at the door with my dress."

"Fuck," said Rose, throwing the bedclothes off and sitting up. Her hair looked as if it had been combed with a whisk. "Here," she said, jumping out of bed and throwing Bella a white robe. "Put this on and try to act normal."

Bella looked down at herself. She was still wearing the blouse from last night along with her underpants. She pulled herself out of the plush bed, steadying herself on the bedside table. Once the dizziness had passed she wrapped the robe tightly around her body.

BUZZ.

Bella padded across the thick carpet to the door, opening it to find an extremely impatient looking Rachel Black standing at the door, a dress carrier in each hand.

"Rachel," she said, trying hard to sound warm and welcoming. "So lovely to see you. Did you get here early?"

"No," said Rachel, craning her head to try to look into the still dark room behind Bella. "I'm not early, you're late."

"Thanks for bringing the dress," said Bella, as humbly as she could manage. "I couldn't believe that I'd lost so much weight that it had to be taken in a third time."

"Highly inconvenient," snapped Rachel, "but it's my little brother's wedding so of course I'm willing to do what needs done to make sure that everything runs smoothly." She sniffed the air surreptitiously. "What have you two been doing?" She narrowed her eyes, suspiciously, "it smells like a brewery in there."

Bella's mind went blank for a moment, not quite sure how to answer that question.

"Hi Rachel," said Rose, materialising behind her. "So lovely to see you. Bella and I haven't seen each other for a few months so after dinner last night we hit the minibar and stayed up half the night chatting and catching up." Rachel didn't seem entirely convinced.

"Hello Rose," she said, almost turning her nose up at the oversize Seahawks T-shirt that Rose was using as sleepwear. "I brought your dress as well."

"Oh, thank you so much," gushed Rose. "I'll take those from you." She waltzed past Bella and whisked the two dresses out of Rachel's hand. "It'll be great to catch up when we meet at the spa later on." Rachel opened her mouth to respond but Rose was on a roll. "See you then," she trilled, shutting the door in Rachel's face. "I hate that girl," she said, as soon as the door was properly closed. "We could have had any colour bridesmaids dresses and she goes and insists on black. The one colour that makes me look like a washed out dishcloth and gives me permanent dark circles under my eyes. Do you even like black?"

"I don't dislike it," said Bella diplomatically. In truth she loved flowers and colours and spring and summer but Jacob's family had decided early on that the wedding should be black and white themed. "Rachel and Rebecca really suit the black dresses."

"Exactly," said Rose, hanging the two dress bags up in the spacious wardrobe. "Those two look like supermodels and I look like some weird vampire."

"It's not that bad," said Bella. Rose unzipped the dress bag and pulled out the black bridesmaids dress. It was full length and strapless. She put it up against her body and immediately looked even more tired and hungover than she actually was. "Okay," said Bella, managing her first weak smile of the day. "Black is definitely not your colour." Rose hung it back in the wardrobe in disgust.

Half an hour later they were both showered and gingerly tackling room service breakfast. Bella spread a slice of toast with butter and jam and nibbled nervously at a corner. She swallowed then sat the toast back down for a moment, checking that it would stay down before taking a second bite and then a third. Rose, meanwhile was already halfway through her eggs benedict, devouring it with barely a breath between bites as if she hadn't eaten for days. When the plate was cleared she topped up her mug of coffee from the pot and sat back in her chair.

"Are you going to tell me what happened last night?"

"Not really," said Bella, avoiding eye contact by concentrating hard on her toast. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Well, something must have happened," said Rose, "one minute everything was fine the next you ran off without me. I wanted to ask you last night," she added, "but you were passed out by the time I got back."

"He kissed me," said Bella, "Edward kissed me."

"So what?" replied Rose flippantly, "guys try to kiss me all the time. I don't run home every time it happens. What else happened?"

"Nothing," said Bella, "nothing at all."

"Then why were you so upset."

"Because," said Bella, her bottom lip starting to tremble. "I completely forgot about Jacob. I actually wanted Edward to kiss me." Rose stared at her through narrowed eyes. "Oh Rose," she said forlornly, "I'm a terrible person."

"No you're not," said Rose, moving her chair close enough to Bella's that she could put her arm around her friend. "You were drunk, a little confused. Nothing happened. You can't beat yourself up about it."

"I can't?" said Bella.

"No," said Rose, confidently. "There's nothing to feel guilty about at all."

"Thanks," said Bella, smiling, a little more genuinely than the fake smile that she had put on at the door to Rachel. "I completely forgot to ask," she said, her voice a little stronger, "how did things go with the cowboy?"

"He is something else," said Rose, a lascivious grin spreading over her face. "Super hot, obviously, given that he's a professional sportsman but really nice with it. Respectful of women, funny, clever…"

"Sounds like you're quite taken with him," said Bella.

"I don't know about that," said Rose defensively, "but he's told me where he will be tonight so I just might go and hook up." She looked at Bella. "You could come too?"

"No, no," replied Bella, hurriedly, "one pre wedding drunken night is enough for me."

"Suit yourself," Rose shrugged her shoulders. "Come on," Rose looked pointedly at her watch. "We'd better get dressed and down to the spa."

* * *

"Ms Swan?" The therapist whispered in her ear. Bella, not quite awake but not quite asleep moved slightly in response, her limbs heavy after the heavenly ninety minute massage. "Your friends are waiting in the relaxation room which is at the end of the corridor."

"Thank you," mumbled Bella.

"Take your time," said the therapist. "Take a few moments to come to and make sure that you drink plenty of water to help recover." The therapist left her alone and after a few moments Bella found the energy to swing her leg over the side of the massage table and slip down off the edge to the floor. She felt tired but alert, her limbs soft and encompassed in aromatherapy oils. She slipped her feet into the white towelling flip flops and pulled on the matching fluffy white robe. She blinked a little as she walked into the light of the corridor, shuffling silently down it towards the relaxation room. She could hear the murmur of voices inside and stopped outside at a hospitality table to fill a glass with iced water infused with cucumber. She steeled herself to join the other three but hearing her name made her stop for a moment before she crossed the threshold.

"What is it with Bella?" It was Rebecca. Although her and Rachel were twins Rebecca had lived in Hawaii for several years so the slight change in her accent made it possible to tell them apart. "I thought that Jacob would have outgrown her by now."

"Fiercely loyal," replied Rachel, in a resigned tone. "He seems to think that because he met her before he had any money that she's a safe bet. I've even introduced him to some of the other actresses and models signed by the agency but he's not interested."

"Looks like it's going ahead then," sighed Rebecca. "Did you….?"

"Yes!" interrupted Rachel. "I've booked her a mani-pedi, a make up artist and a hairdresser for the morning of the wedding as a surprise."

"Thank goodness," replied Rebecca. "I nearly spat out my amuse bouche last night when she said she wanted to walk down the aisle looking like herself."

"I know," Rachel laughed, a cruel sound. "We could do with Bella looking as little like herself and as much a possible like the future wife of a successful businessman in two days time." Rebecca joined in the laughing, the noise echoing harshly in the supposedly relaxing space.

"Ignore them." The voice, though quiet, whispered right into her ear and made her jump. It was Rose, who had materialised from another room and now stood beside her similarly clad in slippers and a robe. Bella smiled gratefully, glad that she was not going to have to brave the Black twins alone. Rose picked up a jug and deliberately rattled the ice cubes around inside. The voices inside stopped. "I'm not sure whether to have the orange juice or cucumber water," she said loudly. Bella steeled herself and followed Rose across the threshold.


	8. Chapter 8

"Congratulations," said Edward, resting his hands over the side of the loose box where May and her pony Angus were. "Third place is your best finish yet. That last run was textbook."

"Thanks," replied May, sliding the saddle from Angus's back and lifting it's weight easily onto the door of the stall. She was a small, capable redhead with a face slightly too square and fierce to be conventionally attractive. Her pony Angus was a good looking chestnut stallion with four white socks and an off centre stripe that always made him look slightly mischevious. Angus lived in the field that bordered Cullen land and Edward often walked past in the evening to take the pony snacks. Angus would always whicker a welcome and come running, more like a dog than a horse.

"Can I…..?" he began, tentatively.

"Snacks?" May put her hands on her hips, incredulous. "Here?"

"Of course," said Edward, pulling a bruised apple from his pocket and feeding it to the eager pony from his flattened palm. "I've always got snacks for Angus." He clapped the pony's neck and scratched him behind the ears as he chomped loudly on the apple.

"I thought," said May," with you being in the livestock business and all, that you didn't treat animals as pets any more."

"I don't," said Edward with a smile, "but Angus is special. He's more like a person than a pony."

"Amen to that," said May, unbolting the loose box and stepping outside before bolting the door behind her. "I'm just sorry it's our last year competing together."

"What?" replied Edward, genuinely surprised. "You just came third, why would you quit now?"

"Daddy's not so good," she said, matter of factly. "I need to get back and help run the ranch." Edward, having lived next to the Wexler's all of his life, knew that May was an only child, a rarity in the Montana farming community where large families were the norm. Norm Wexler had been getting frailer by the day and it had only been a matter of time before May would be forced to take over or sell.

"Shoot," he said, companionably. She joined him leaning over the door of the loosebox, watching Angus chomping hay contentedly.

"I've had enough anyway," she continued, softly. "It's a hard life hauling from rodeo to rodeo." She laughed and it was slightly hollow. "I just always thought that when I moved back to Montana that it would be with a husband in tow." She changed the subject. "Of course, the hardest thing will be getting rid of Angus."

"You can't sell Angus," said Edward, aghast, "he's one of the family."

"I thought that you were supposed to be the businessman?" said May, pointedly. "He's a ten thousand dollar asset and I can't justify keeping him unless he's earning a living." She stayed silent for a moment but even without looking at her he could hear the start of a sniffle and could see the way that she rubbed her nose with her shirt sleeve, trying to hide her sadness from him, the same way that Norm had tried to hide the dwindling herd and decaying buildings from his family over the last few years.

"I could buy him," suggested Edward.

"How?" said May, looking up at him with damp eyes. "I know you ain't got that kind of cash."

"I don't," said Edward, "not yet." He paused, cooking up a plan in his mind. "But if you were willing to let him go for a smaller sum I could pay you the rest from stud fees as he earns them."

"Maybe," said May, "but what would happen when he can't perform stud duties no more?"

"He'd live in the back pasture until the end of his days."

"Oh Edward," she said, hurling himself into his arms and finally letting go of the steely exterior that coloured her day to day interactions. A huge, grateful sob ripped from the very core of her body and he knew then, as he had always suspected, just how much Angus meant to her.

* * *

"Why doesn't she just sell?" asked Emmett. He was just out of the shower, wearing only a white towel around his waist.

"It's not hers to sell, remember?" said Edward, searching in a wash bag for his razor. He wanted to look his best tonight in case he met Bella again. "Norm was born in that house. I'll wager that the stubborn old goat dies there as well. Her hands are tied, until….." He fell into silence. They both knew that until her parents died that May wouldn't have a say in what happened to the ranch.

"But if she was selling…." Began Emmett. The Wexler ranch, although totalling only a third of the Cullen acreage, had good road access and a section fronting onto the creek, both of which would make it an attractive addition.

"If she was selling, we'd be buying," agreed Edward. "But that could be years away."

"Is that why you're taking that stupid horse for her?" said Emmett, slyly, "to make sure that we're front of the queue when she does sell?"

"Fuck Emmett," he said, angrily, "not everything in life has some sinister underlying motivation." Emmett, to his credit, managed to look a little sheepish. "I like Angus, he's a sweet pony and he reminds me of Cupcake." Cupcake, Edward's first pony and constant childhood companion, was buried in the North pasture, her grave marked by a small wooden cross and some boulders. "Plus, from a purely commercial sense he's a prizewinning barrel racer. He'll pay for himself in stud fees."

"Staking the future of the business on some horse sperm?" This time Edward didn't bother rebuffing Emmett. In a way, he was right, there was no way of knowing what return, if any, they could make on Angus. He did know that, like May, he couldn't bear to see Angus sold.

* * *

The hoedown was in full swing. Cowboy hats and baseball hats mingled in the crowd in front of the stage where a hard faced young woman in a short skirt and gaudy brown and turquoise boots belted out covers of Carrie Underwood and Dolly Parton hits to an appreciative crowd. The bright façades of the hotels flashed, a mesmerising mix of neon and thousands of bulbs promising riches to all. The glittering rhinestones and goosepimply flesh on the girls provided the same promise, luring unsuspecting men with the siren call of youth and sex. Edward looked around at the crowd, beer in hand, and suddenly felt old. Even Emmett, at his side, was showing little of his usual enthusiasm for the fairer sex.

"Hey Emmett," said a pretty brunette in a short denim skirt and a pink checked shirt tied under her breasts to show off an expanse of tanned stomach. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Oh hey….." Emmett looked at the girl, stopped in mid sentence with his mouth open, clearly unaware of her name.

"That's okay," she purred, putting a bony hand topped with glittery nails onto his arm, "it's Candice. Of course," she lowered her voice to a deep husky stage whisper, "the last time we met you were crying out baby and honey pie." Edward had heard enough and started to sidle away as Candice propositioned his brother for a replay. Emmett joined him a moment later, slightly red in the face.

"Where's Candice?" he said.

"I sent her packing," said Emmett.

"Feeling okay?" said Edward, putting a hand to his brother's forehead. Emmett swatted it away good naturedly.

"I'm fine," he grinned. "But I'm hoping Rose turns up and if she does I don't want her seeing me with….."

"One of your previous conquests?" offered Edward. "A notch on the bedpost? A one night stand…." Emmett silenced his brother with a good natured punch.

"With my past," said Emmett firmly. Edward lapsed into silence, slightly surprised by his brother's new found maturity. His mention of Rose also brought Bella firmly to mind. Would she be willing to even talk to him after running of last night? How could he make sure that he didn't run away again. He finished his beer and dropped the plastic cup into a nearby bin.

"Another?" asked Emmett.

"No," said Edward. If Bella came tonight he wanted to make sure that he had a clear head.


	9. Chapter 9

"Whose idea was this joint party?" muttered Rose.

"Rachel's," said Bella. "She heard about it in England, apparently they call it a hag."

"A hag?" repeated Rose, turning up her nose.

"A mash up between a hen night and a stag night," explained Bella. "Very trendy."

"What's a stag night?" Rose wrinkled her nose. "And while we're at it, what's a hen night?"

"It's the British names for bachelor and bachelorete parties," replied Bella, patiently.

"Still shit," quipped Rose. She wasn't keeping her voice down but when Bella glanced around the table she realised that nobody else was listening. Although they were seated at the centre of a large booth the conversation was largely going on over the top of them. Jacob had flown out half of a dozen of his friends from home for the wedding and a number of business contacts had joined them as well. Although Rachel and Rebecca were supposed to be there for Bella's bachelorette they were gravitating more to the bachelor party. Firstly, they knew most of the guys from school and secondly, they moved in the same business sphere as the others. Rose followed her gaze. "If it was just you and me," said Rose, lowering her voice slightly so that only Bella could hear, "we'd have gone to Cirque du Soleil then for an amazing meal then onto a night club for bottle service and dancing."

"Sounds good," admitted Bella. She took a large gulp of white wine and glanced across at Jacob. He looked good in dark jeans with a fitted white shirt tucked in. For about the millionth time she shook herself, surprised that she was getting married to somebody so handsome and successful. He caught her looking at him and winked at her quickly before going back to his conversation.

"How soon can we ditch this party?" muttered Rose. Bella sneaked a look at her watch. It was ten thirty.

"An hour?" she offered.

"An hour it is," said Rose, grimly. She reached across Rachel and took the half full bottle of white wine from a silver ice bucket. Rachel scowled at Rose. Rose smiled sweetly then topped up both her own and Bella's glasses. She filled them almost to the brim, finishing the bottle. Rachel turned away, disgusted as Rose deliberately reached across her again to drop the empty bottle upside down back into the ice bucket.

* * *

TAP TAP TAP TAP.

The whole table turned to face Jacob who was hitting the side of his glass with a knife that had been left behind when the dinner dishes were cleared. A silence fell over the table.

"Bella," he said, addressing her but making eye contact with everyone else around the table as if he was a politician making a speech. "I know that we've not spoken about a honeymoon but I've managed to organise something and I wanted to surprise you. It seems that tonight is as good a time as any." The rest of the table cheered and chattered. Bella sat in silence, staring at her future husband with big eyes. Her stomach churned, not used to the attention and not sure what he was going to say. She had always wanted to go to Europe, sip coffee on the Champs-Elysee, zip down the Amalfi coast in a pastel coloured convertible and make a wish at the Trevi fountain. Surely he hadn't…..?

"Come on," said Rachel bossily, "on your feet." Wordlessly, Bella obeyed, several bodies sliding out of the booth to let her exit. She stood up on wobbly legs and walked over to Jacob who dropped a sloppy kiss on her cheek. He pulled a small white envelope from his back pocket and thrust it toward her, grinning from ear to ear. She looked into his eyes for a moment, not sure whether she should take it. He thrust it into her hand, using his own hands to close hers around it firmly. She looked at their joined hands for a moment, her hands shaking.

"Come on," shrieked Rebecca impatiently, "we don't have all night." Bella slid her thumb into the gap in the top of the envelope, working it along the top of the envelope until it was open. Inside there was a postcard. With a trembling hand she took it out of the envelope. The back said, "with all my love, Jacob." She turned it over and there was a picture of a woman in a hula skirt on the front. Her stomach lurched but before she could react Jacob grabbed it from her and showed it to the assembled table. "We're going to Hawaii!" he declared, proudly. Bella threw herself at him and buried her face in his shirt. He put his arms around her and pulled her close. "Don't worry babe," he whispered, "you're welcome."

* * *

"Do you think anyone else noticed?" asked Bella. They had just arrived back in the hotel room having made their excuses and left the hag party.

"What?" said Rose, throwing herself down onto the bed. "That your face fell when he said it was Hawaii? I don't think so."

"I feel like such an awful person," said Bella. "Who could be disappointed by a surprise trip to Hawaii?"

"He's the one that should be feeling bad," said Rose. "A honeymoon at the resort owned by Rebecca and her husband? Cheapskate."

"It's a nice gesture…" began Bella.

"It's not," said Rose, firmly. "I overheard him talking to Rebecca about some sort of joint venture so not only is he getting the hotel cheap, he'll also be using your honeymoon to do some sort of business deal."

"True," said Bella, gently, tears welling in her eyes so that she had to turn her head away from Rose to hide them. What she didn't say out loud was that what hurt the most was that Jacob didn't really seem to know her at all.

"Are we going out then?" asked Rose. Bella had resolved this morning to get an early night. Yet sitting through the hag party had been unbearable. She was supposed to be one of the two guests of honour but she had felt out of place amongst Jacob and his friends and family. With a couple of glasses of good white wine already in her system the decision was soon made.

"Sure," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "why the hell not?"

"Devil may care Bella!" cried Rose, gleefully, clapping her hands together. "I like!"

Ten minutes later they were changed and ready to go. They both wore skinny jeans again but while Rose put high heels on Bella tucked hers into a pair of soft brown knee length boots with a mid heel. She teamed it with an emerald green silk shell top. Rose teamed her jeans with a fawn coloured polo neck which accentuated the length and grace of her neck and showed off every curve.

* * *

"Stop," hissed Rose, as they walked across the highly patterned carpet toward reception. She dragged Bella behind a huge display of flowers.

"What?" said Bella, tripping over her own feet slightly as the flooring changed from carpet to tile.

"I just saw Seth," said Rose. Seth was Jacob's best man. Bella parted the stems of a huge scented lily and a fern in time to see him saunter into view. A minibus pulled up in front of reception. Paul, Jacob and then the rest of the stag party appeared and got into the minibus. As the door shut she got a closer look at the logo on the side. It was the outline of a female silhouette, with pink lettering. "Glitter Gulch Strip Club."

"What the….?" started Bella.

"Exactly," said Rose, shaking her head and unleashing a sweet smelling cloud of pollen as she let her own parted flower stems bounce back into place. "Why bother with this stupid hag business if they were just going to hit a strip joint anyway as soon as we were out of the picture? Why not just have a good old fashioned bachelor party?"

"I don't know," said Bella, as the tears that were still unshed stunng her eyes. The heavy pollen stuck in her nose, sickly sweet. None of the alternatives was particularly comforting. Either Jacob had lied when he had said that he didn't want any of the usual strippers and heavy drinking or he didn't trust her to have her own bachelorette party. "Come on," she said, grabbing Rose by the arm and pulling her across the foyer. "Let's go."

"Wait," said Rose, digging her heels into the soft carpet for a moment. "You're not planning on following them are you?"

"What?" said Bella, confused. "Of course not, why on earth would I do that."

"Good," said Rose, "but where are we going then?"

"Downtown?" suggested Bella.

"Downtown!" shouted Rose in return, fist pumping the air.


	10. Chapter 10

"Don't look now," muttered Emmett, "but Rose and Bella are here."

"Are you sure it's them this time?" said Edward, taking a sip of his diet soda. Emmett had already propositioned the wrong tall blonde tonight, much to Edward's amusement as his brother tried to backtrack from an overly familiar greeting.

"One hundred percent," said Emmett, colouring slightly at the memory. "They're standing at the outdoor bar ordering drinks and I can see them both in perfect profile. "Plus," he added, "Bella's coat is a really distinctive blue."

"Okay," said Edward. "What's the plan?"

"The plan?" said Emmett, raising his eyebrows. "Why do I have to be the one with the plan?"

"You're a well known womaniser," said Edward.

"It doesn't mean I've got a plan," muttered Emmett. "In case you haven't noticed Rose doesn't really respond well to my usual moves." Suddenly he breathed in, a sudden rush of air. "Don't look now but they've seen us and they're walking over."

Play it cool, thought Edward to himself, play it cool. The soda was cold but his hand suddenly felt clammy. He dropped it in a nearby bin and surreptitiously wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.

"Hey there cowboys," said Rose, coming to a stop right in front of them, a large frozen margarita in one hand. "We nearly never recognised you without the cowboy hats."

"Howdy," said Emmett. His hand moved as if he was going to tip his hat but when he realised he wasn't wearing a hat he ran his hands self consciously through his blonde curls instead.

"And no shiny buckle either?" said Rose in a teasing tone, looking flirtatiously down at his blue jeans. "You're lucky we're even giving you the time of day."

"Hi Edward," said Bella, meeting his eyes only briefly over the top of a loud coloured frozen drink.

"Hey," replied Edward. Emmett was already deep in conversation with Rose, leaving them more or less alone.

"I'm sorry….." he began.

"I'm sorry…." Began Bella simultaneously. They both laughed, breaking the ice, but it was Edward who pushed on.

"I'm sorry about last night," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to be presumptious, it just felt right to kiss you. I'm so sorry that I made you uncomfortable."

"Oh Edward," she said. "It's not you, it's me." He looked at her expectantly, somehow feeling that there was more but again he got the feeling that there was an impenetrable corner of her that he wouldn't be able to reach and that the reason for her running last night was locked in with the rest of her secrets. "Can we not talk about it?" she pleaded, taking the straw between her full lips again and taking another drink. "I've had a dreadful day and I just want to relax."

"Of course," replied Edward. They made small talk and watched the band and Edward got them all a second round of drinks. Not long after that Edward turned to say something to Emmett and noticed that he and Rose were kissing. He nudged Bella and cocked his head towards the couple who were locking lips like teenagers after the school prom. Bella rolled her eyes but smiled, clearly pleased for her friend. That, thought Edward, put him a bit of a quandry. He suspected that Emmett would be keen to take Rose back to their motel room tonight. Now, usually he would just sleep in the horse trailer or with one of their friends in the area but now he had Bella to worry about. Would she think he was trying to get her to take him home? Would she be offended if he offered to drop her at the door of the hotel? There was so many questions, and in his eyes, so many ways to mess this up.

"This isn't really my thing," said Bella, apologetically, breaking into his thoughts. She eyed the assembled crowd. A girl in a short skirt was trying to get up from where she had fallen on the ground, flashing her black underwear, much to the amusement of a nearby group of men who were whooping and hollering. Her friend, almost as drunk, was as much hindrance in help in trying to pick her up. A man in a wheelchair sat sleeping, oblivious in the centre of the crowd, a bottle of beer still clutched loosely in his gnarled hands. Further up the street two men seemed to be hell bent on fighting, various friends and bystanders either egging them on or trying to stop them from trading blows. There was a whir and a scream from above as the latest batch of ziplining tourists squealed over their heads.

"Me neither," said Edward, feeling old again. He had an urge to get her alone, to take her somewhere that they could talk. But where? After her reaction last night he was definitely not going to suggest his motel room. The surrounding casinos and restaurants seemed tacky and the bars were definitely no better. "Tell you what," he said, suddenly glad that he had stopped at one beer. "Why don't I take you out to the showground?"

"The showground?" She looked confused. "Oh yes," she said, glancing at the cowboys in the street, "the rodeo." Her interest was clearly piqued. "I've never seen a rodeo. Do you have animals with you?"

"Yes," said Edward, finding that a smile broke out on his face at her. "Bulls and horses."

"I always wanted to learn to ride," side Bella, wistfully. "I love horses."

"Great," replied Edward. He quickly discounted showing her his prize bulls. Another cowboy would appreciate the pedigree and their fierce attitudes but he sensed that Bella would not be impressed. He also discounted taking her see Emmett's horse. Dorcas had propelled Emmett to a win alongside his brother in the team roping but the black gelding had a mean streak and he didn't want Bella to lose a finger, or worse at the hands of the devil horse. "I've just bought a lovely little pony for stud. I was going to check up on him anyway if you want to come along?" He knew that little Angus would be the ideal introduction for somebody who hadn't been around horses.

"Ummm," she hesitated for a moment, clearly not sure what to do. He held his breath as she surveyed the street scene again, her eyes lingering for a moment on Emmett and Rose. Finally she looked at the barely touched slushy cocktail in her hand. Frowning, she slung it into the nearest bin. "Sounds great," she said, with a smile so shy and tentative that he thought his heart might burst, it beat so hard and irregular when he let his breath back out.

* * *

"It's so big," she said. He turned his head slightly, a smile playing across his lips. Immediately she clapped her hands over her mouth, her cheeks flushing, realising what she had said. "The truck," she squeaked. "It's a really big truck."

"That it is," he agreed, raising an eyebrow at her as he opened the passenger side door and watched her clamber in. He shut the door behind her, pleased that he had insisted Emmett clear out his rubbish earlier in the day. He got into the drivers seat and sniffed the air surreptitiously. It was fairly clean but there was still the familiar day to day smells of the ranch. Leather, hay and a slight comforting smell of horse. He sniffed again, noticing now that the door was closed her scent again, that delicate floral so faint that he almost thought that his memory was making it up. But then she turned her head and the swoosh of her hair brought a fresh gentle wave. He inhaled it, closing his eyes in pleasure. When he remembered where he was and opened his eyes hers were inches away from his. As well as the dark eyes he suddenly noticed how long the lashes were and the way that she was looking at him from underneath them. He felt an urge to kiss her but the memory of last night was fresh enough in his mind for him to rein himself in.

"Were you….?" She began.

"Smelling your hair?" he grimaced. "I'm afraid so." He grabbed the steering wheel and pushed the button on the dash that caused the engine to leap into life. "I'm not sure if it is your shampoo or perfume but you've got a really distinctive scent that I can't put my finger on."

"Oh," she replied, but the single word was tinged with pleasure at his compliment. "I use an organic shampoo and conditioner made by a local company. Maybe it's that." She pulled a lock of her hair to her own nose and sniffed. "I can't smell anything," she said. "Can you?" She grabbed a fistful of her long dark locks and thrust them towards him. It felt a little weird but he didn't know if he would get another chance to be so close to her so he turned his head toward her, gingerly took her hair into his own hand and breathed it in. His hands noticed how heavy and silky the strands were at the same time that his nose filled with the delicious floral fragrance. He wanted the moment to last as long as possible so he breathed in several times in a row, trying to commit the smell to memory.

"I think that must be it," he said, dropping her hair and switching the gearshaft into Drive with a shaking hand. "Come on," he said in a stronger voice, "let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

Bella hadn't been sure what to expect but the security at the showground surprised her. Edward had a pass for the car but he had to show ID as well and explain what they were doing there in the wee small hours of the morning.

"Why so much security?" she asked.

"Some of these horses or bulls are worth thousands," he told her, edging into a parking space near the stables and cutting the engine. "The high cash prizes for the national finals also makes them really competitive. It wouldn't be the first time that somebody has tried sabotaging a competitors mount."

"Wow," said Bella, unclicking her seat belt, "I never thought that things would be so…."

"Competitive?" suggested Edward.

"Actually," she laughed, "I was going to say cut-throat."

"That too," said Edward. He jumped out of the drivers seat and appeared around at her door to open it for her before she even found the handle.

"Thank you," she said, clambering out of the high cab as delicately as she could. Edward closed her door and locked the car with a beep. She followed him into the stables, breathing in the unfamiliar but strangely comforting smell of horse. There were rows and rows of stables, built in squares in a sort of grid system. Horses dozed, ate, drank and eyed them curiously as they walked past. In the spaces there were saddles, blankets, brushes and hats, everything that the serious competitor might need. After a few moments of walking Edward stopped outside a stable at the far end of the complex.

"Angus," he said, quietly. A little noise, a whicker, came from the dimly lit interior in answer and out of the gloom came a little chestnut pony with a jauntily squint stripe on his face. He came straight to Edward, poking his head over the door of the stable and immediately investigating Edward's pockets as Edward stroked his neck and rubbed his forelock. There was clearly a genuine affection between them, thought Bella and she felt humbled to be able to witness the moment.

"Do you want to feed him?" asked Edward, pulling a carrot from his pocket. She eyed Angus warily as he tried to snatch the carrot from Edward with what appeared to be huge white teeth.

"I don't know," she said, suddenly unsure. He wasn't the biggest horse in the place but his teeth looked easily able to consume her hand.

"Don't worry," said Edward, smiling indulgently but without cruelty at her reticence, "he won't bite. If you put it flat in your palm like this," he showed her, "then he'll be able to pick it up without risking one of your fingers."

"Okay," she replied, gingerly accepting the carrot and putting her palm flat as Edward had showed her. She put it near Angus's mouth and he dipped his head and took it from her gently, almost regally, crunching it loudly and with gusto.

"His nose is so soft," she exclaimed, delightedly, "its just like velvet." She felt her initial reserve erode and instinctively put her hand out to touch Angus's nose. It was soft and his breath was warm on her hands. She clapped his neck as she had seen Edward do and rubbed him between his eyes, an act which made the little pony half close his eyes in pleasure. Edward gave her another carrot and she fed him that too. When he rested his head on her shoulder she instinctively put her arms around his neck, burying her heard in his mane, breathing in the smell of horse. She had always wanted to learn to ride but with Charlie raising her on his own there was little spare cash even for riding lessons. Ironic, she thought, that now she was at a stage in her life where she could afford riding lessons or a horse of her own but she didn't have time. All of her time seemed to be spent in the business, whether it was scheduling meetings for Jacob or stepping in as receptionist at the resort when staff let him down.

"You're getting on very well with Angus for somebody that hasn't been around horses," said Edward. There was a strange half smile on his face that she couldn't decipher but from the tone of his voice she guessed that he was pleased with her reaction.

"He's lovely," she said, releasing him from her arms. Angus sniffed them each a little more, searching for more snacks, then meandered back to his haynet and started slowly devouring it. "Such a sweet, sweet boy."

"He's a prize-winning barrel racer," said Edward. He pointed to a large yellow ribbon pinned to the bars of the loose box.

"Really?" asked Bella. "Does that mean third in the whole country?"

"Yes," said Edward, "third overall this year and top ten the last two. Angus is small," he explained, "but fast as lightning and damn clever." Bella looked at the dozy figure, one leg resting, eyes half closed chomping contentedly at his haynet. It was hard to imagine him streaking around a ring.

"I'll admit," said Edward, "that he doesn't look like much now…."

They both laughed.

"Tell me about life on the ranch then," said Bella, as they stood in companionable silence watching Angus eat.

"Nothing to tell," said Edward, shrugging his shoulders. She looked at him, really looked. Her cursory glance when they first met had taken in his dark shirt with the button down collar tucked into jeans that hugged his bottom and ended over some well polished dark brown boots but now she saw that his hair was not blonde as she had first thought but darker, almost bronze. He didn't have the cherubic curls of his brother but then again it wasn't as long. It was cut in a neat short back and sides with a side parting but the texture, the way that it was ruffled artfully in places hinted at a wild streak that couldn't be tamed by a haircut alone. "It's hard, lonely work," he continued, looking at Angus rather than at her and affording her the opportunity to take in his strong, sinewy hands with the short square nails, the curve of his jaw and the definition in his cheekbones, the long lashes that framed his green eyes. "You don't pick it, you're born into it." She longed to run a finger along the line of his jaw, to turn his face toward her, to put her lips against his yet all she could do was stand and look at him.

"Has your family always been ranchers?" she asked.

"I'm the fourth generation," he replied in a tone of voice that seemed to be part pride and part longing for something else. "Carlisle, my father, is third generation. He was an only child. Esme, my mother rules the roost with an iron fist. Her family are ranchers too and she was the youngest of five kids so she's tough as boots. Anyway," he said, turning to face her and clearly trying to change the subject, "I've been surrounded by cowboys for the last few days and I've had my fill of shop talk. Tell me about yourself? What do you do?"

Panic immediately slashed across Bella's brain. How could she tell this man who had taken her into his confidence that she was in Las Vegas to be married? Even if she left that thought out there was also the voice of self-doubt deep inside that made her embarrassed to admit that she hadn't really done anything with her life. She had given up on college to help Jacob build the business and whilst that had given her some financial security by proxy she didn't want to admit that the sum total of her efforts in the last ten years was invisible. Receptionist, chambermaid, a disastrous spell as a stand in croupier. She had moved with the tide and had little to show for it. For the first time she felt a sense of outrage. Why was it Jacob who was CEO? Why was it him that was interviewed on business blogs and him that accepted awards on behalf of the company at glitzy black tie balls? Why had she spent so long trying to blend into the background? She had let herself be pulled here and there. Like a stone on the seashore all of the rough edges had been smoothed away leaving her featureless. She was a pebble, an indeterminate little blob amongst millions of others. Yet, contrary to all intuition there was a man here and now, looking at her as if she was a precious jewel.

There was no way that she could put any of these thoughts into a coherent narrative so she didn't. She followed her instincts and did the only thing that she could think of to stop him asking questions. She got up onto her tiptoes and kissed him.


	12. Chapter 12

As Bella pressed her lips to his, Edward didn't dare move a muscle. He could barely believe that she was taking the initiative like this after her performance last night. He was perceptive enough to realise that she was uncomfortable talking about herself yet pleased enough with her attentions to put any query as to why to the back of his mind. When he had seen her with Angus, a natural with horses by the looks of things, his mind had moved into overdrive. Suddenly he could see her by his side in Montana, walking the dogs, helping the cows give birth in spring, family meals and little dark haired children with her kind liquid eyes. For a fleeting moment he saw their future spread out before him until he quickly reined himself back in with the question of why somebody like her would be interested in him in the first place and why any woman would opt for life on the ranch. It was isolated, the weather could be brutal and keeping an enterprise like the Cullen's going took hard physical work. It was beautiful, of course, the great plains, yet beauty alone wouldn't get or keep a wife.

She kissed him softly, chastely, a kiss that he already knew that he would remember long after the memory of all other kisses had faded from his memory. After a moment she wound her arms around his neck, using him for support. Then, and only then, did he believe that the kiss was real and allow himself to touch her. He kept one hand on the door of the loose box, for his own legs were wobbly and he wasn't sure that he trusted them to keep him up, and placed the other hand on the hollow of her waist. She was slim underneath him yet he got the impression that she had a strong core, the kind of steel that would bend but never break. It was her that deepened the kiss, parting her lips with a tiny audible sigh that travelled directly to his crotch.

His resolve weakened then and he took control of the kiss, deepening it, exploring her mouth with his tongue, winding his hands in her dark tresses and running his hands down to the small of her back to embrace her wholly. She leaned into him, kissing him harder, kissing him so hard that she would probably have stubble rash in the morning. He pushed her against the door of the stall slipped his hands under her buttocks, enjoying the shape of the gently rounded globes and the tightening of her arms around his torso. He was hopelessly excited and he knew that she would be able to feel his hardness as the crotch of her jeans ground into his.

The memory of last night stayed in his mind like a shadow and he pulled away for a moment, fearing somehow that he had misread the situation again and that she would run away at the first opportunity. Yet when he pulled away she squeaked in protest and looked at him through those long lashes with dark lust filled eyes. Her lips were slightly swollen from their kissing and her hair was messy and wild. He had never seen anything more inviting in his life.

"Are you sure?" he whispered urgently.

"I'm sure," she breathed, biting her bottom lip as she stared into his soul, making him groan.

"Oh god Bella," he moaned, "what are you doing to me?"

"Making you hard by the feel of it," she whispered. Just her use of the word "hard" made his cock twitch and she giggled, obviously feeling the effect that she had on him. Suddenly a little chestnut head appeared behind Bella, snuffling at her hair as if checking whether it was hay.

"Angus," said Edward, in an exasperated tone, loosening his grip on Bella and pushing the nosy little pony gently out of the way. "You have terrible timing."

"Or good timing," said Bella, taking his hand in her surprisingly strong one. "Maybe he's telling us that it's time to go back to your truck." She didn't have to ask him twice. He squeezed her hand tight and she smiled at him and then they were walking back to the truck. Speed walking in fact. He was sure that she would have trotted alongside him if he had not used every ounce of self control to keep to a normal pace.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Edward.

"About what?" she asked. "Fucking in your truck?" Even as he winced at her use of the swear word his cock leapt again, directly affected by her deliberate provocativeness. "I'm virtually sober," she said, seriously, crinkling her nose in a terribly cute way that affected the part of his brain that loved cute kittens. "Just for once I want to do something for me. Something crazy. Something sexy." She squeezed his hand tighter and lowered her voice to a tone barely above a whisper. "And I want that something to be with you."

* * *

The truck door slammed shut. It was not until the reverberations ceased and the truck lapsed into complete silence that he dared turn his head to look at her, fearful that she would change her mind. She gazed straight back at him, lust and a hint of defiance in the chocolate depths of her eyes.

"Do you want me to take you home?" He asked the question gently, but his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel gave away how important the question was to him.

"No," she replied, her cheeks colouring in a way that reminded him, for a moment, of Rose's warning that she didn't have much experience with men. "I mean," she tucked her dark tresses behind one ear, lowering her gaze slightly, "I know I was all gung ho and stuff a minute ago, but I don't really want to do it in here…."

He laughed out loud, amused and relieved that was the problem. "Don't worry," he said, "you're much too nice a girl to treat like that." He touched the side of her cheek, savouring the velvety smooth skin, before touching the bottom of her chin and gently pulling her mouth to his. This time it was his turn to kiss her chastely, a soft, sweet kiss, the type of kiss that every girl wishes had been their first experience of men. After a moment he pulled away, halting his head a couple of inches away from hers. She kept her eyes closed for a moment, one finger moving to her lips as if remembering the press of his lips against hers and then her eyes opened, soft and blinking as if from a deep delicious sleep.

"Let's go then," she whispered. "I'll text Rose and let her know where I am." Edward breathed a sigh of relief as he put the key into the lock and turned it so that the engine roared into life. If Emmett and Rose knew they were together then he wouldn't have to try to explain to Emmett. In truth, he wasn't quite sure what was happening here himself but he intended riding the train until he found out. The second benefit of Bella telling Rose directly was that Emmett would know that the hotel room was taken. For a horrible moment he had thought that if Emmett and Rose were expecting to use their hotel room that he would have to take Bella to the horse trailer. He didn't want to go to her hotel room, feeling instinctively that it was taking her out of her usual environment that was opening her up to him but on the other hand the horse trailer was cold and functional, hardly a romantic place for a liaision.

Stop thinking so hard, Cullen, he told himself, shaking his head like a dog shedding droplets of water as he put the truck into reverse and backed out of the parking space. She likes you, you like her. Don't ruin things by fast forwarding six months in your head when tonight has barely begun.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: The next two chapters are a wee bit shorter than normal so as a special treat I have posted them together. Enjoy! LadyLetters x**

* * *

Bella stared out of the window of the truck. Bright neon lights pierced the darkness, rushing past the car in a blur of strip malls and twenty four hour tattooo parlours, man made imitations of the curved sliver of moon and riot of stars twinkling in the clear desert sky above.

Edward glanced over at her and Bellla returned his look with a brief smile before turning her attention back to the road ahead. Her face might have been serene, a technique that she had long ago learned when dealing with the extended Black family, yet inside her mind was moving with the speed and devastation of a tornado.

Her and Jacob were over, that much was obvious. How could she not have seen it years ago? Each new house, each sparkling new car on the drive, none of it was making them any happier. All of her good memories of Jacob were from before they were twenty one. Swimming at La Push, working on her old red truck, losing their virginity together under the bright summer stars as the waves lapped gently against the shoreline. A long hot summer in that first little one story house they had owned in Forks. She smiled to herself, remembering that first flush of love. Yet the smile faded as she realised that growing up had changed them both. Jacob was harder, more focused. Business was everything and money was the currency of business. He was handsome and smart but increasingly distant, the laid back, goofy guy that she had loved long gone.

Bella was still soft, but she had learned to cover her emotions, not to start a fight by berating him for being late home. Not to look disappointed when he didn't turn up to dinner with Charlie and Sue again. Not to be angry when one of his many assistants pushed her into working as a Chambermaid for the week because somebody was ill. Her defences worked both ways and she now saw that over the years she had toned down the laughter and joy in her life too, laughing less, withdrawing further into herself and avoiding seeing friends. The highs had been toned out along with the lows leaving her wandering through a grey reality, moving like a zombie along a path that she had not chosen.

Outside of the Blacks and Charlie and Sue, Rose was the one friend that had stayed with her, forcing her out of her shell, making her do things that were out of her comfort zone. It was probably why the Black family didn't like Rose, because she had tried to get Bella to stay at college instead of dropping out to help with the business. Because of the times she had insist Bella come out to dinner with old school friends or come with her to the movies, or for drinks. Rose might have learned long ago that clashing directly with the Blacks just made things worse for Bella, however she hadn't stopped trying to subvert their control subtly at every turn. Bella felt a rush of warmth for her loyal friend.

Edward looked over at her again and her stomach flipped, a squirm of butterflies and fairies and the delicious decadence of knowing the intent behind his intense green eyed gaze. Maybe Jacob had looked at her like that once but now he looked at her like an item on his to do list. Make deal, go to gym, service fiancé. She knew now, in this moment, that she would sacrifice ten years of pleasantness with Jacob for one night with Edward. Each lingering look and sideways glance with hungry eyes brought her out of her cocoon a little further, opening her eyes from the gilded prison that was blinkering her to all of the possibilities that the world had to offer. Tomorrow she would have to break things off with Jacob, but tonight would be about her and Edward.

"What are you smiling at?" asked Edward. He looked ever so slightly suspicious as if he thought her making an internal joke at his expense.

"Nothing," she replied. The silence spread out between them. A tiny giggle escaped her mouth, surprising her as much as it did Edward. "I don't know," she said, shrugging her shoulders, suddenly unable to stop now that her serene outward exterior had been breached. "Anticipation, I guess." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Nervousness?"

"No need to be nervous darlin'," said Edward, in a low drawl that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and her spine tingle. He grabbed her hand in his warm, rough one, pulling it to his lips and brushing his lips against her knuckles. She almost squirmed in her seat, so good did the touch feel. If he had this effect on her now what would she feel like when they…

"We're here," said Edward, interrupting a chain of thought that had great potential. With reluctance he let go of her hand, which he had kept hold of for the last few minutes. They were at a motel on the outskirts of Las Vegas. It wasn't glitzy like the big Casino Hotels on the strip but she thought that it looked well kept and clean. You could tell that it was rodeo week because the parking lot was filled with trucks and trailers. Despite it being after midnight the place was still jumping. There was people drinking around the pool and a couple of cowboys in bathing trunks and hats sitting in the hot tub with cold beers in their hands. Quite a few people had dragged chairs outside from their room and were sitting out on the walkways. "Not quite the Bellagio," said Edward, a hint of apology in his voice.

"It's fine," said Bella brightly. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she realised that her tone was the same one that she used with Jacob, the bright catch all of a doormat. This time it was her turn to grab his hand. "Edward," she told him, her voice deliberately low and intimate, "I don't really care where we are. I just want to get to know you better." He leaned over the centre console and kissed her briefly. Their lips barely touched yet a delicious shiver engulfed her body.

"Come on," he said, "let's get you inside."


	14. Chapter 14

Edward slipped the deadbolt into place with a noise that seemed deafening in the quiet room. Bella looked at him, then looked away, the first awkward moment between them. He glanced around the room, painfully aware how this would look compared to her five star hotel. The chintzy bedspreads on the two queen sized beds, the huge CRT television, taking up space on the countertop, an analogue relic in a digital age. Whilst Edward's side of the room was fairly neat, his cowboy hat on the bedside table, Emmett's was another matter and dirty boots, discarded clothes and protein bar wrappers created a little rubbish heap between Emmett's bed and the window. Suddenly he realised that it had been a terrible mistake to bring Bella here. A terrible mistake that a girl like her could slum it with a guy like him.

"Sorry," he said, his cheeks blazing, "I've just realised how this must look to an outsider."

"It looks fine," she said, although he thought her voice a little strained.

"Tell you what," he said, trying to make his voice sound bright although inside his hurt and disappointment was so tight that it threatened to stop him breathing, "why don't I take you back to the Bellagio?" He pulled up his shirt sleeve and checked his watch although his eyes didn't take in the time. "It's late and….."

The words died in his mouth as she took his hand in both of hers. In what seemed like slow motion to him she stood on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his lips. He couldn't quite believe it. Did she want to stay here with him? She took a step back and smiled at him, a disturbing mix of sweetness mixed with lust that worked as surely on his cock as a big breasted lady in a nudey magazine.

"Who are you?" he asked, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

"What do you mean?" She paused, her expression changing, the confidence of a moment ago leaking away. A stab of fear penetrated, a negative voice telling him that the night was going to be over before it even started.

"I mean, um…." he began. The words petered out and she took a step back, crossing her hands over her chest in a defensive gesture. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to continue. "Last night you literally ran away when I kissed you on the dancefloor." She continued to look at him, her face eerily still. "You can't blame a guy for wondering why you're here with me now." He gulped, his voice almost breaking. "And for wondering if you're going to run."

"Oh Edward," she sighed. A single glistening tear appeared at the corner of her eye. He longed to reach out and wipe it away, to make sure that she never cried again but he couldn't. He was frozen to the spot. Finally she continued. "Things have changed." He nodded, willing her to go on. "I've changed." She took a further step away and leaned back against the countertop that held the television and the motel information. Her hair fell forward, partially obscuring her face from his view.

"How….?" He began.

"I don't want to get into it." She shut him down before he could even finish the question. "Hell," she said, throwing her hands up in the air with a wry twist of her mouth, "I'm not sure I could explain even if I wanted to." He could smell her delicious floral scent, feel her sudden attack of inhibition ebbing. He dared to take a step toward her and although she didn't meet him she didn't back away. He took another step forward.

"I'll tell you," she whispered, her bottom lip trembling as she gazed up at him. "I promise I will. But not tonight."

"I trust you," he replied gently, rubbing a thumb across her full lips, enjoying the way that they parted lightly at his touch, her eyes half open, hooded with pleasure. He traced a finger along her jawline before putting his whole hand on her cheek, moving it back into her hair as he moved in for a kiss. Her body reacted, a languorous, somehow inevitable descent from sweet and soft through parted lips and some exploratory tongue into hot and hard. He took a step closer and a tiny whimper escaped from her parted lips as she wound her hands around him, pulling him closer, placing all of her weight on the countertop and spreading her legs, pulling him into her orbit. Their lips broke apart, creating space for him to pepper her neck with light butterfly kisses. She giggled, a sound almost as heady as that floral scent. Finally unashamed he buried his head in her tresses, breathing in, trying to brand it into his memory before returning to her neck and kissing it more forcefully until she quivered underneath him.

Her fingers moved to the top button of his shirt, then the second and he lifted his head from her neck to gaze into her eyes, still not quite sure how she could have changed so much from last night. She was smiling, relaxed, lust-filled eyes taking in the smattering of hair on his chest, biting her bottom lip in anticipation as the third, fourth and fifth buttons revealed a stomach taut from ranch work. She pushed the shirt over his shoulders and down his arms, letting it fall to the ground. He held his breath as she trailed a slow line of kisses over his collarbone then flicked an exploratory tongue over one hard nipple. Her hands roamed across his back, taking in the iron hard muscles. She pulled him closer to her and he knew that she must be able to feel his erection straining against his jeans. His thoughts were confirmed when she spread her legs wider, using her legs to pull him closer so that his hardness ground against her crotch. There was a half zip on the back of her soft emerald green shell top and he gently pulled her hair over one shoulder so that he could unzip it. He could feel her trembling and was surprised to find that his own hands were a little unsteady. He wasn't sure if it was adrenaline or the pressure of trying to make their first time together as good as possible but his usually strong grip was wavering. She pushed her hands above her head obligingly and he took the hemline of the cold slippery silk and pulled it over her head. It was probably expensive, he thought, intending to hang it up neatly up in the motel wardrobe. However, the first sight of her underwear was enough to put that thought firmly out of his mind, the plum silk and black eyelash lace bra both beautiful against her alabaster skin and far racier than anything that he had imagined. Was this the first evidence that Bella was not as innocent as she seemed?

The silk top fell to the floor.


	15. Chapter 15

Bella took a deep, shuddering breath in, trying to steady herself as Edward wrapped his arms around her, their skin touching for the first time as he enveloped her in a searing kiss that took her breath away. His warm, rough hands ran up her back, finally finding the place where the delicate fabric hooked together and deftly undoing the hooks before spreading the material wide and touching the exposed skin as if he wanted to memorise every part of her. The ease with which he had found his way into her brassiere did make her wonder for a second how much experience he had with women however the cold air on her breasts as he slid the straps down over her arms quickly stopped that line of mental enquiry.

For a moment she was embarrassed, she had lost so much weight recently that her ribs were almost visible and she was a cup size down, hence the new underwear which Rose had made her purchase for the occasion. Yet Edward made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world as he took in first her decollatege then the swell of her breasts with reverent eyes. He placed both hands on her waist then moved them surely up her body, over her stomach, lightly touching her ribs before skimming flat palms over her breasts. She gasped involuntarily, her nipples impossibly sensitive to his touch. The gasp morphed into a low, guttural moan as one callused hand touched her breast, a smile on his lips as his thumb grazed her nipple. His head bent to the other breast, a deft tongue flicking the puckered centre until, encouraged by her heavy breathing and one hand on the back of his head, he took the nipple in his mouth and sucked, a delicious, slightly painful feeling that tingled between her legs, making her squirm. Encouraged, he grazed his teeth across the sensitive skin and continued, alternating between soft and hard, the warmth of his mouth then the cool night air on wet skin, punctuated by butterfly kisses and the sensation of day old stubble. She whimpered, a sound she usually associated with abandoned puppies, but one which she suddenly found her own body capable of making. Her usually sensible thoughts were disparate and foggy, and try as she might she couldn't knit them into a coherent thought. All that mattered was now and Edward. When she opened her mouth again she found that noises were all that her body could make, vocabulary and polite conversation so far away from this earthy, instinctual encounter that it could be entirely alien.

His hardness was pushing against her and she spread her legs as wide as she could, trying to push as much of the length against her as she could through her jeans. Suddenly impatient, she knew that his jeans would have to come off. Clumsy, determined fingers went to his waistband, starting to work on the buckle of his belt.

"No," he whispered, "not yet." Slightly confused she leaned back a little on the countertop so that she could look at him. The green depths of his eyes were filled with intention and without dropping his gaze from hers he unbuttoned the top button of her jeans and unzipped them. She looked down, taking in the silky, lacy knickers visible through the small exposed triangle. Edward followed her gaze, his breath catching in her throat in proof that he found her attractive, the confidence boost that she needed. He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her gently down from where she was perched onto two feet. She was still wearing the boots over her jeans but he didn't bother with these, yanking her jeans down impatiently until they were at her knees. They were stretch jeans but they still didn't give her much room to manouvere. He dropped to his knees, taking her in, rubbing his face against the delicate material so that she could feel his hot breath and the stubble. His nose touched her sensitive nub and she gasped. He looked up at her and smiled, comfort and filth, the face of a man that could keep you happy for the rest of your life. Without breaking eye contact he pulled the skimpy material to one side, a movement which made her groan as the silky fabric tightened across other areas. She could barely breathe as he broke eye contact, spreading her with deft fingers then running a finger from between her legs which she could tell was wet, up to her clitoris. She shuddered, her legs suddenly a little unsteady again. He dipped his head, breathing a stream of hot air on her until she inhaled involuntarily, her body pushing itself toward him, desperate for his touch. His tongue made contact with her clit and she gasped, the intention so intense that she automatically tried to scoot away. He pushed her bottom against the cold wood, trapping her between the furniture and his tongue and continued his delicious assault. His tongue swirled and lapped. She tried to squirm away but he held her firm, gently insisting on her pleasure until she gave in and stilled, resting her hands against the wood and letting her head loll back, gazing with out of focus eyes at the yellowed artex ceiling, revelling in the selfish act of letting Edward pleasure her.

He fastened his lips around her clitoris and sucked. She gasped. Her hand went to his bronze hair as he sucked, alternating between that and deliciously long, languorous licks until her body changed gear, breathing ragged, a new flush of warmth between her legs. Edward seemed finely tuned to her body and upped the speed of his attack. When she bucked involuntarily against him he knew exactly how to send her over the edge, two strong fingers finding their way into her providing the catalyst for an explosion that made her scream his name as waves of pleasure radiated out to every extremity. As the delicious sparks ebbed away her body sagged, her legs suddenly weak. Sensing this, he scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing, and laid her gently on the bed.

She closed her eyes for a moment, flat on her back on the bed as she caught her breath. She felt elated and sated, thoughts based on colour and emotion swirling through her mind. It was only as her thoughts started to crystalise again that a slight doubt born of self consciousness sprung to mind. The noises she had made, how wet she had been, what on earth would he think of her? She felt the bed move a little as he sat down. She opened her eyes and looked straight into Edward's green ones. He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, gazing at her with a look that dispelled any doubts that she had. She smiled back at him.


	16. Chapter 16

She was so beautiful, lying with her tresses spread across the pillow like a goddess, the flush in her cheeks tangible evidence of the pleasure that he had just brought her. Instinctively he put his arm around her, pulling her into the gap between his bicep and his chest as he rolled around onto his back. She snuggled into him, sighing with pleasure as he pulled her close, burrowing into his shoulder, the hand nearest him settling naturally on his chest. His heart was beating so hard in his chest he was sure that the fingers trailing lazily over his chest must be able to feel it. Bella was a rare and intoxicating creature. He knew that if she reached one hand into his chest right now that he would die happily watching his own life ebbing away in her hands. His stomach tightened a little, concerned at how far he had gone mentally with this girl in such a short time. But when she rolled over a little and tilted her head up to kiss him on the lips again his heart hammered against his ribs, telling him that it was ready to be lost. She was millimetres away from him now, her head resting on her hand, gazing up at him with those liquid eyes, the ghost of a smile still on her swollen lips.

"I think we've got a problem, cowboy." Her voice was husky and low and it turned his arms to gooseflesh.

"We do?" He whispered, his stomach tightening.

"We do." Bella smiled innocently at him as a hand trailed down his chest, over his stomach and over his jeans. Under the jeans his erection was still rock hard. He gasped as she ran her hand gently over it, then traced the outline through the denim.

"Are you any good at problem solving?" He quipped. She laughed in response.

"I could certainly try a few things." His mouth was suddenly dry, the small gulp that he made in anticipation eerily loud in the intimate space. "I've got another problem to deal with first," she batted her eyelids at him, gazing it him with faux innocence through long lashes.

"You've got an awful lot of problems, miss," he told her. "How can I help?"

"Well," she said, "I can't move around much with these jeans stuck halfway down my legs. Maybe you could….?" Well, she didn't have to ask Edward twice. In a flash he was on his feet at the foot of the bed. She rolled onto her back and obligingly stuck her feet up into the air. He unzipped first one buttersoft brown leather boot, then the second, throwing them away with such disregard that she laughed out loud. She was wearing navy socks with a pink unicorn print underneath, the slim legs of her jeans tucked into them to make a smooth line under the boots. The whimsical printed socks were a stark contrast to the bland but obviously expensive clothes that she was wearing for the rest of the world to see. The sight heartened him, gave him hope that there was more to her than the polished, mysterious exterior. He took his time peeling them down, committing the image of the prancing pink animal to memory, a strange mascot for the well of hope that was building within him. With the socks discarded he noticed how nice her feet were. Long, he thought, fairly large for a female if he was to be critical, but soft and attractive, the nails painted a soft pearlescent blue to match the colour on her fingernails.

He took one foot in his hand and ran his hands over the top and the sole. She closed her eyes, bottom lip between her teeth. He wasn't into feet, not usually, but something about how nice they looked and the way that her face changed when he touched them made him want to explore this further. He angled her foot up into the air, kissing the sole.

"So tickly," she breathed. Encouraged he continued, taking her big toe into his mouth and sucking it, swirling his tongue around the digit. She sighed and squirmed, clearly enjoying his attentions. He let the first foot rest on his shoulder, taking the second one and running his hands across it experimentally, watching the way that she moved, the slight automatic jerk of the foot away from him as he touched the sensitive sole. He scratched a fingernail gently along the length of the sole and she gasped and tried to pull it away but he held her firm until his finger completed the long, steady trail. The next time he took each toe in turn into his mouth, starting with the little toe and ending with the biggest one. Her eyes stayed closed and her lip between her teeth.

She opened her eyes again and suddenly impatient he moved his hands down the length of her legs, finding the waistband of her jeans. He pulled them down. They were tight at the bottom and she helped him, kicking her legs back and forward like an upside down cyclist to help ease them off. In a second they were forgotten, discarded on the floor with the rest of their clothes. He kicked off his own boots, unbuttoned the fly on his jeans and shucked them off in record quick time along with his own, rather plain, blue socks. In a trice he was back on the bed. She spread her legs obligingly as he crawled up the bedspread and then they were together again, her legs wrapping around him, his arms running from buttock to thigh and enjoying her warmth, the lean strength as they pulled him closer to her until his lips touched hers again, his arms in a triangle around her head to keep his weight off her.

Their kiss was electric, all tongues and panting, a surprising hardness from her soft lips. Her hands roamed over him, down his biceps, across his back, tracing the outline of his buttocks through his tight black boxer shorts. She squirmed and writhed, tracing a tongue across the shape of his ear then taking the lobe between her teeth and gently dragging it in a movement that brought a guttural moan to his throat. He kissed her neck, soft then hard, before moving his head back to her lips and gently sucking and biting her bottom lip, mimicking what she had just done to his earlobe. Her hands on his back became more insistent, fingernails running from his shoulders to the waistband of his underwear in a slow movement that danced across the line between pleasure and pain.

"I want you," he breathed, grazing his teeth along her neck then burying his head for a brief moment in the headily scented mass of her hair.

"I want you too," she squeaked. He felt her take a couple of deep, tremulous breaths. Steady again, her voice dropped to a lower, steadier cadence. "I want you now." A hand snaked down between them, tracing the shape of his cock under the shorts as if to check that it was still hard, then plunging her hand bravely into the depths and wrapping itself around his hard length. The angle was awkward but she managed a couple of long strokes up and down before he had to growl at her to stop for fear that he would pop his cork way too early. He got to his knees and pulled the suddenly constrictive shorts down. He would always remember the filthy smile on her face as his cock sprung free of its confines to full glory. She licked her lips in anticipation then obligingly lifted her buttocks from the bedspread for a moment so that he could pull the delicate plum silk and lace panties down the length of her legs. He stilled for a moment, overwhelmed for a moment by the beauty of the woman lying there. Her hair was tangled, her face flushed, her lips swollen from kissing. Her body arched as she propped herself up on her elbows, her nipples proud, breasts weighty, the natural teacup shape of a historic beauty rather than the round solid fakes that he had seen at every turn this week. There was a neat smattering of soft dark hair down below, tidy but natural. She looked like a woman, soft and rounded, her slippery pink interior hidden from view. She spread her legs, seemingly enjoying his gaze. She lay back letting her hands move down her body, until they were between her legs. In an act of complete trust she spread herself for him. His cock twitched as he saw her in full glory. He almost lost in when she slipped a finger into her pink centre, moaning in a way that echoed the way that she had moaned at his touch earlier.


	17. Chapter 17

"Condom?" she breathed. She was on the edge of forgetting everything else but this amazing man so it was a struggle to say sensible for the two seconds it took to remind Edward that he had to be properly dressed. It took him less than twenty seconds to rummage in the bedside drawer, pull out a condom, rip it from its cover then sheathe his straining cock. For a moment she wondered, irrationally, how many women he had slept with before her but as he crawled back between her legs and she felt his cock rub between her pussy lips, the thought fled her mind. She wrapped her legs around him, the head of his cock rubbing tantalising against her entrance.

"Are you sure?" he whispered.

"Yes." She replied. He didn't move and she pushed herself against him, desperate for his length to fill her.

"Absolutely sure?" He didn't move an inch but she could feel his blood pumping around his body, the strain in his arms as he held his body taut, the sheen of sweat on his forehead as he fought every primal instinct in his body to make sure that she was okay with this.

"Just fuck me, Edward," she grinned. In a moment he was in her, her head arching back and the air whooshing out of her lungs as he filled her completely. Frustratingly slowly he moved until he was almost out before thrusting into her again, driving a guttural moan from her body that was not like any other sound she made on a regular basis.

"Wait," she said in a few moments, after grabbing his buttocks and trying to pull him to her didn't make him move any faster. "Let me go on top." Obligingly he rolled over and she quickly hopped astride him, angling his cock until she was almost but not quite impaled on it. He looked amazing, his long lean body spread out on the bed below her. His green eyes, surprisingly she thought, were still looking at her as if she was some film star or model, not plain old Bella Swan. His gaze made her lustful, reckless, a person driven by base desires that she barely recognised as a facet of herself. Smiling in a predatory way that made her pussy flush along with her cheeks he grasped her by the waist, trying to drive his cock up into her.

"Hold on," she said, indignantly, putting a steadying hand on his chest. "My turn." Slowly, slowly she impaled herself onto his cock, watching his eyes close in delight then open again and gaze at her through heavy lids as she took the whole member inside. She had never felt so full in her life and she savoured the feeling, marvelling at the way that her body had accommodated to take him, feeling a place that he touched deep inside which her body wasn't quite sure yet was pleasure or pain. Gently she began to move, rocking herself up and down on his length. He heeded her warning, staying stock still underneath her. The pace built slowly, carefully. Finally he could take no more and sat up, guiding her legs around behind him so that they were intertwined face to face. He lifted his head and kissed her fiercely and she gasped as he pulled her harder onto his cock. As her body slipped down his length she threw her head back and this time when she pulled her towards him again he took a swollen nipple into his mouth and sucked it hard enough to make her cry out. On the next thrust he took the other one into his mouth and sucked. Her body sang, a primal wail escaping her lips which made Edward's cock twitch inside her. Suddenly it wasn't enough and she leaned back, supporting herself on her hands as she tried to get more of his cock, thrusting her hips desperately against him, egging him on as he pushed himself up to meet her again and again. With his own body counterbalanced on one hand he reached between their bodies and rubbed her clit. She was already on the edge and it was too much. She howled as her body reverberated, his cock thrusting into her in three last final deep thrusts as she came, her whole body clenching then releasing as waves of pleasure racked her body. She knew by the way his body shook that he had climaxed too, the grunt of pleasure and tightening of his corded work hardened muscles a giveaway sign.

* * *

"Like this?" she asked, scooting herself backward so that she was on all fours at the edge of the bed.

"Hell yes," said Edward. He was stood up behind her, his cock impossibly hard yet again. She gasped as he pushed an exploratory finger into her pussy. "You're so wet," he murmured, pushing a second finger into her slick centre as his thumb touched her clit.

"I can't take all the credit for that," she intoned, slightly hoarsely as he started to push her into the pleasure zone again. She moaned as his fingers exited then stilled as one of his slick digits started moving ever so gently around the tight entrance of her anus.

"Edward?" She wasn't sure about this.

"Trust me…." One finger touched the puckered rosebud centre and her body jumped, this time from the sensation rather than uncertainty. "I can stop any time you want me too." He kissed one buttock, then the other. Then the finger pushed lightly. She gasped. She should tell him to stop. "Any time," he said. It pushed again, slightly further.

"I've never…."she whimpered.

"Don't worry," he said, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to." He pushed the finger a little further, easing it out then back into the tight entrance. "Just say the word and I'll stop." Nobody had ever touched her there before. She was opposed to anal sex on principle as it seemed to be the mainstay of internet porn, a demeaning act for fake breasted girls with pussies like underage kids. Yet there was nothing demeaning about this. She had no idea it would feel so, well, good. He pushed again and it was like his finger had breached some sort of seal. He had a finger in her ass. She groaned, not quite sure what the sensation was, letting it wash over her, savouring it like a first sip of vintage wine, not quite sure whether it was good or if it had turned to something else. He put two fingers from his other hand into her pussy and suddenly she was full in a new way. He kept the fingers in her pussy as he let the finger in her ass almost slide out, then pushed it back in so that she groaned. Then he let the fingers in her pussy almost slip out before pushing them in again, twisting so that they reached a spot that had never been stimulated before. Once, twice, three times he continued this until she wasn't sure if she was going to cum or whether she was going to wet herself.

"If I don't take you soon I'm going to come all over your ass," he told her. She giggled but it died in her throat as her body immediately started missing his fingers. Plus, the image of him shooting hot sticky liquid onto her was surprisingly arousing. He dipped into the bathroom for a moment and she heard him washing his hands. Then he was out and rummaging in the bedside table again for another condom.

"Wait," she said, just as he was angling himself to enter her from behind. She reached out to the bedside table and grabbed his cowboy hat from where it was sitting. "Put this on." Without a moment's hesitation he put the hat on his head where it belonged in once practiced swoop.

"Dirty girl," he said, slapping her once on the ass and making her giggle before he entered her in one long, clean movement. She moaned and leaned forward, putting her weight into her elbows, twisting her head back to look over her shoulder as the lean figure of the cowboy with his work hardened body and T-shirt tan thrusting into her. It was one of the most erotic sights that she had ever seen.

For a moment she let her eyes drift out of focus so that Edward was just a faceless shape with the unmistakable shape of a cowboy hat upon his head. How many times had she dreamed this cowboy dream? How many times had her sessions with Jacob only been bearable because of the invisible spectre of the cowboy haunting her imagination, her waking fantasies? How many times had she rubbed herself and screamed for a man she didn't yet know?

Slowing the pace Edward took a firm grip of her hips and he helped her pull her body upwards so that her back was against Edwards chest. He put his arms around her tightly, nuzzling into her neck as one arm trailed up her belly until it was cupping a breast. With the other he gently turned her head back towards his so that they were kissing tenderly as he gently moved inside her. She sighed happily, safer and more content in this man's arms than she had been anywhere else in her life.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: Thanks to everybody who found me last week via either The Lemonade Stand or the rec from my good friend and fabulous fictioneer AliciaW68. I'm a little bewildered by the attention and trying not to crumble under the pressure! I have been in the habit of thanking people individually for reviews but there is a little too many this week so this a wider thank you to all of the people who have followed, favourited and reviewed my little story. LadyLetters x x**

* * *

Edward's phone beeped on the night stand. Automatically he rolled onto his back, snatched it up and caught the message that flashed up on the screen. It was 5.30AM and Emmett telling him, slightly belatedly, not to wait up. He dumped the phone back down and rolled over, throwing his arm around Bella again. She was sweet and sleepy, pushing her naked body back against his, nestling into him again. Still slightly stunned that this goddess had stayed the night he brushed her hair back from her face, savouring the floral scent, and gently kissed her neck. She smiled and mumbled something. Encouraged, he kissed her neck. She sighed and wiggled against him. His cock stirred even though Edward was still half asleep.

"Morning handsome," she mumbled.

"It's not morning," he told her, snaking a hand up a torso and cupping a breast.

"Then why do you feel so awake?" She wriggled delightfully, rubbing her bottom against his rapidly hardening length.

"Just a side effect of waking up next to you, darlin'," he murmured. She tilted her hips, offering herself to him. He rubbed himself against her entrance, not quite fully hard. She moaned lazily and arched her body. He wrapped an arm tight around her waist and moved his whole body so that he was as close to her as he could be, holding her firmly against him. The hand that was holding her breast skimmed down her torso then slipped between her legs. He found her warm and wet. A tiny groan of pleasure slipped from his lips as his cock sprang to full attention. He slipped easily into her and thrust gently, building the rhythm carfully until she moaned her pleasure, her pussy clenching around him as he poured himself into her. With his cock still inside her they fell back into the world of sleep.

* * *

The first dusty fingers of light found their way through the gaps in the chintzy curtains. Bella was already awake, sitting on the single armchair, watching the green lines on the alarm clock flick across the minutes. Edward was still sleeping. The weak light illuminated his form, shading and highlighting the corded muscles, the taut belly, the deep V leading down to his most private places. He lay on his back, one arm behind his head, sheets kicked aside, as confident in his own skin asleep as he was awake.

She couldn't quite believe what had happened last night. Edward had treated her with respect, almost reverence. Yet he had also taken control, giving her pleasure, holding back on his own satisfaction to ensure that she was happy. She didn't have much experience with men, that was true, but from experience of her own relationship with Jacob and the tales that Rose regaled her with, she suspected that this was a rarity.

The passing thought of Jacob brought a sudden tightening to her stomach. She longed to stay in this happy bubble, to lock the door, order take-out and spend the next three days in bed with Edward but she had to face the music. Jacob might have changed but he didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be cheated on. He certainly didn't deserve for the wedding to be called off without an explanation. Bella wasn't quite sure how much she would tell Jacob, although she was determined not to lie to him. She got to her feet, suddenly desperate to confess all to Edward, after all, she had promised him an explanation. After a moment she slumped heavily into the chair again. How could she tell him? What on earth would she tell him? Surely it would be easier telling him if she had already broken it off?

She got to her feet again, but this time started to tiptoe around the room, retrieving her crumpled clothing and putting it on as quietly as she could. Edward's shirt was discarded on the floor. She picked it up, smooshing the fabric together and pushing her face deep into it. She smelled cologne, mellow and musky, and the reassuring scent of clean fresh man. Could she detect a hint of leather? Edward stirred and she dropped the garment to the floor, standing stock still, terror that he would wake up mingling with a faint hope that he would wake up and force her to confess. A moment later his breathing lapsed back into the deep peaceful rhythm of sleep. She scribbled a quick note on the pad on the bedside table, picked up her handbag then slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Outside the day was getting brighter. The sky was still grey but it was clear, promising a warm winter day ahead. The swimming pool showed signs of a party the night before. Empty beer bottles were scattered around and a single plastic lounge chair bobbed delicately on the smooth surface. A single light coloured cowboy hat was suspended on top of a flag pole. Bella descended two flights of stairs and slipped under a walkway to emerge at the front of the building. It had been dark last night and she hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings. The issue of how she was going to get back to the Bellagio suddenly reared it's head.

A woman in last night's party dress stood barefoot in front of reception smoking a cigarette. Her gold sparkly shoes lay discarded beside her. Her hair looked like it had been brushed with a whisk. Bella got her phone out of her bag.

"You going to the strip?" asked the woman in a Southern drawl.

"Yes," replied Bella. She wasn't quite sure what to say. "Um, are you?"

"I sure am," she replied. "My Uber is two minutes away if you want to share?"

"Thanks," said Bella, "that would actually be great." She slipped her phone back into her bag. They lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

"Cowboys, eh?" said the woman.

"Cowboys," nodded Bella, non-commitally.

"They sure know how to party," the woman continued. Bella managed a watery smile which the woman seemed to take as encouragement. She dropped the spent cigarette to the floor, moving as if to stamp it out before realising that she didn't have any shoes on and just leaving it. "I thought that cowboys were mean to be bow-legged." She laughed and Bella watched the acrid smoke rise from the discarded cigarette in ugly grey plumes. "But I think that I should be bow legged after the riding I got last night." The cigarette sputtered out, the final smoke patterns hanging in the air like the woman's last statement, leaving only a spent husk behind tainted with a harsh red lipstick. Bella was spared the horror of trying to formulate an appropriate response by the arrival of a silver Prius. The woman got into the front and immediately struck up conversation with the driver. Bella closed her eyes and feigned sleep.

She felt angry, indignant that the woman had mistaken her for some hussy on the walk of shame. The anger slowly leaked away with the realisation that was exactly what she was. Edward was in town for a week for the rodeo. He and his brother probably took a different girl home every night. Sure, it felt different, it felt real, special. But how could it be? She closed her eyes tighter and held onto her memories of the evening. The way that he touched her. The way that he looked at her. The way that he had snuggled into her back all night, never letting her go. It was more than a one night stand. It had to be.


	19. Chapter 19

Edward woke with a start as the door of the motel room swung open, propelled with enough strength to bang hard against the doorstop.

"Fuck, Emmett," he cursed. He reached out to pull the sheet over Bella. She wasn't there. His hand touched cool cotton, not the warmth of her body. He frowned and turned to his brother. Emmett entered the room and slammed the door behind him. The drapes were still drawn so he turned on the overhead light, bathing the room in weak yellow electrical light. Emmett seemed agitated. "What's up?" Emmett didn't reply, just started pacing up and down in the space at the foot of the two beds. Edward glanced around the room. All of Bella's clothes had gone. There was no trace that she had ever been here. He picked up the pillow that she had been lying on and pushed his nose into it. A faint floral scent lingered, barely perceptible beyond the industrial clean smell of hotel linen.

"Rose," snarled Emmett.

"What about Rose?" Edward dropped the pillow and sat up, reaching out to grab his mobile phone and check the time. There was a folded piece of paper tucked underneath it. His stomach tightened. A dear John letter? With a shaking hand he unfolded it.

 _Downtown, tonight, same place? Bella_

Relief and hope washed over him. She wanted to see him again! He looked at the back of the note, wishing that she had left a phone number, but there wasn't anything beyond the five words.

"Are you listening to me?" growled Emmett.

"Of course I am," said Edward, putting the note back under his phone. He plumped a cushion and lay back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest. "What's the problem?"

"She lied to me," said Emmett, "that's the problem."

"Rose?" Emmett nodded. He stopped pacing and stood still but his fists clenched and unclenched rhythmically at his sides. "What has she lied about?"

"Everything," said Emmett. He pushed a hand through his blonde locks, still bed head messy. "I don't even know where to start."

"Start from the beginning," said Edward. "Last time I saw you two you were making out in the street."

"Yeah," said Emmett, unable to keep a small smile from breaking his face at the memory. "She looked so hot and we were drinking and gambling and then we went back to the Bellagio."

"Is this a long story?" asked Edward. "Because if it is I'd like some coffee to go with it."

"Fine," huffed Emmett. He took the coffee pot into the bathroom to fill from the faucet and Edward took the chance to slip out of bed and pull on a fresh pair of boxer shorts. Emmett set the coffee to brew and turned back to Edward.

"So we went back to her hotel," began Emmett.

"To…?"

"Yes," to Edward's surprise his brother coloured slightly. He wasn't usually this coy. "To, you know." Edward nodded his understanding, steeling himself for Emmett's usual blow by blow account of the evening's activities. "So," continued Emmett, "the next morning we ordered room service. I was still naked when it arrived so Rose told me to grab a robe from the closet."

"I'm following," said Edward, slightly surprised and somewhat relieved that he had skipped the lurid details.

"So, I go into the closet and there's a wedding dress in there."

"A wedding dress?" Edward couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. "Are you sure?"

"White satin, floor length, embellished with shiny things here," he waved his arms around his chest area. "I might just be some stupid cowboy but I know what the hell a wedding dress looks like." They lapsed into silence. The smell of coffee started to permeate the room. Emmett poured two cups and handed one to Edward before sitting down heavily on the second bed. He put his feet onto the bedspread, shoes still on. Edward thought about chastising him but decided on balance that it was probably better to let it go.

"Did you ask her about it?" said Edward, gently.

"No," replied Emmett, putting the mug of coffee down hard enough on the side table to slosh some black liquid over the top. "It was one night, what the hell would I say?" He shrugged his shoulders. "That I was jealous she was marrying somebody else?"

"So," said Edward, coolly. "It was a one night thing? Why are you even bothered?" Emmett looked at him, eyes widening slightly with a dangerous glaze. "You've slept with literally hundreds of women. Some single, some married. Why is this one a problem?" Emmett didn't say anything but his fists started clenching and unclenching again. "Why?" asked Edward. "Why is it an issue that Rose is getting married?" Emmett opened his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out. His eyes were still staring ominously. Usually Edward wouldn't push his brother like this but he knew that Emmett had to drive these disparate thoughts through to a conclusion. "She's just another notch on the bedpost, a woman wanting a bit of fun before tying herself down, put her out of your pretty little mind." He took a sip of his coffee, as if the conversation was closed.

"It matters!" Emmett sprang to his feet, as if to start pacing again.

"But why?" asked Edward.

"Because she's different!" yelled Emmett. "I hate that she's got under my skin. I hate that she's lied to me." He looked at Edward, a strange look on his face. "Most of all I hate that I didn't even have the balls to ask her about it, let alone to fight for her." His anger finally surfaced in an explosive flash. He spun, lashing out at the first thing that he could see which happened to be the motel room door. He punched the door with such force that the plywood exterior caved in. He pulled his arm back and punched again with a bloodcurdling wail. This time his hand pushed all of the way through the door in a shower of tiny splinters of light.

"Stop!" Edward jumped to his feet, suddenly concerned. Emmett was trying to pull his hand from the hole in the door, presumably to punch it again. "Stop," said Edward, softer this time, putting a hand on Emmett's arm. His brother was shaking , struggling wildly to pull his hand from the wreckage. After a few moments he succeeded, bringing a shaft of mid-morning light into the dim room, light that highlighted the angry, humiliated tears sliding down his face.

"It's funny really," Emmett smiled an eerie sort of smile. Edward looked down and saw dark blood trickling down his brother's arm in little rivulets. "All this time I was so happy to take advantage of girls that just wanted a roll in the hay with a cowboy." He snorted. "I've just realised that they were taking advantage of me." Edward looked down again, a couple of little rivulets had joined up, making the flow look a little more like a torrent.

"My little brother's growing up," said Edward, with a hint of sarcasm to his voice. He crossed to the bathroom and picked up a clean hand towel. Emmett didn't seem to have noticed the bleeding but he stood quietly when Edward lifted his arm, wiped off some of the surface blood and inspected the damage.

"Emergency room," sighed Edward. It wasn't the first time either of them had been there so they knew the drill. He wrapped the towel around Emmett's hand as tightly as he could. "Why you can't just put an angry post on Facebook like anybody else I don't know."

"Facebook," a ghost of a smile graced Emmett's face. "I ain't on Facebook." He grimaced a little as Edward tied the ends of the towel in a knot. "You ain't on Facebook either, you douchebag."

"Welcome back," said Edward, dropping Emmett's hand and shooting a wry smile at him. "I'm guessing if you can muster the IQ to insult me that you must be feeling okay."

"I've got to see Rose," he said, the anger in his eyes replaced by shame and something that looked a little to Edward like hope. "Can we go to the Bellagio after the Emergency Room?"

"I guess so," Edward shrugged but inside his heart swelled a little, suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing Bella again, despite the circumstances.


	20. Chapter 20

**_Hey guys, hello to all the new readers and thank you soooo much to everybody who has taken the time to review and favourite and follow That Cowboy Dream. There are now too many of you to thank individually but I genuinely appreciate every reader! Thanks to AliciaW68 for the constant support, check her fab adult stories out! LL X_**

* * *

 _Do Not Disturb._

Bella looked at the discreet taupe sign hung over the door handle of her room. Should she just go in? Should she knock? She really needed to speak to Rose but was loath to walk into the aftermath of whatever she and Emmett had been doing last night. She took out her phone, intending to ring Rose, but the battery was dead. She slipped it back into her bag. A couple walked past, looking quizzically as she stood outside the room by herself. She smiled weakly at them, rummaging in her bag as if searching for her keycard. As they stepped into the elevator at the end of the corridor she made up her mind. She would freshen up in the ladies bathrooms on the casino floor then go and see Jacob.

* * *

 _Ding dong._

The suite that Jacob was staying in had a doorbell. She stood outside, rubbing her suddenly clammy hands on her jeans. She had sprayed some deodorant, scraped her hair back into a ponytail and washed her face with the harsh soap meant for hands but despite this she still felt dirty. She felt like everybody could tell that she had stayed out all night. It reminded her of her first time with Jacob. That night had been so special, so magical, her entry into a grown up world. She felt different. She was sure she looked different. She was sure that everybody would be able to see the change in her written all over her face. But nobody else noticed. Charlie offered her leftover stew and turned his attention back to the game whilst nobody at school the next day noticed that anything was different, although in her mind she had glowed like a beacon, filled with the secrecy and excitement of this next phase of her transition to adulthood.

"Bella?" It was Rachel.

"Oh," said Bella, noting Rachel's full face of make-up and sleek work dress and high heel combo. "I wasn't expecting to find you here."

"Well, I am here," she said, resting her body against the door jamb. "Can I help?"

"Is Jacob there?" asked Bella.

"In the shower," said Rachel, after a momentary pause. She made as if to close the door but Bella cut in.

"I need to see Jacob," she said firmly. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to peer over and around Rachel to see into the living area of the suite behind her. "It's urgent."

"Let her in," came a voice from inside the suite. Bella's heart sank as she recognised the voice as Rebecca's. Great, she thought, that's all I need, a dose of the Black twins. She looked down the corridor, her eyes following the undulating pattern of the plush carpet leading back toward the elevator. Part of her longed to run but a core of steel that she didn't know she possessed helped her turn her head forward, raise her chin a fraction, and step over the threshold into the suite.

The suite was beautiful, the living area alone three of four times larger than her standard room. Plush beige carpets and soft sofas toned with dark wood furniture and accents to create a soothing, if slightly sterile environment. A dark wood door at the end of the living room must lead to the bedroom. For a moment Bella wondered about making a break for it, running to the bedroom, locking the door and catching Jacob as he got out of the shower. Rachel, with her usual uncanny ability to sense Bella's every thought, strutted into her eye line to block her advance. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Can I help?" said Rebecca. Bella turned toward her voice. She sat on one of the overstuffed sofas, red killer heels kicked off, stocking clad feet tucked under her as she sat cupping a mug of coffee between her hands. Rachel might have made no secret of her dislike of Bella but it was Rebecca's smiling charm that Bella had always been more wary of. "Jacob's got a few business meetings today so I'm afraid he won't have much time."

"But..."

"Is it the table plan?" cut in Rebecca, sweetly. "It's always such a nightmare knowing who to sit next to each other."

"No, it's…"

"The wedding rings?" exclaimed Rebecca. "Don't worry, Seth has them. It's all under control."

"I need…"

"Don't worry," Rebecca uncurled her legs like a snake spreading out in the sun. She got to her feet and padded over to Bella. "Everything is under control. Between Rachel and myself and the Bellagio wedding co-ordinator there is absolutely nothing to worry about." She put what was probably meant to be a comforting hand on Bella's right arm. Bella suppressed a shiver. Rebecca's hand was dry and bony, the fashionably pointed nails reminiscent of a bird of prey.

"I need to speak to Jacob," she said firmly, "now."

"Oh my god," said Rachel, a hand flying up to her mouth. "She's having second thoughts, that's why she's here." She looked at her sister. Rebecca and Rachel stared at each other for a brief moment, some sort of unspoken understanding flashing between them that made Bella swallow, her mouth suddenly uncomfortably dry. When Rebecca turned to face Bella her smile hadn't faded but any pretence that it reached her eyes had.

"Is that true?" said Rebecca. Bella opened her mouth to protest. Her words died before they could form. They were right, she was having second thoughts. But she needed to be speaking about this with Jacob, not his over protective sisters.

"It is true," spat Rachel. Rebecca glanced at her sister again as if to warn that she was dealing with the matter.

"Oh honey," said Rebecca, pulling Bella into a fake hug that made her skin crawl. "Marriage is a big deal, everybody has last minute doubts." She let Bella go and Bella compulsively took a step back, out of her reach. "But when you get there tomorrow and see Jacob standing waiting on you in his tuxedo, your families watching, then those doubts will melt away."

"It's not last minute doubts," muttered Bella. Rebecca's smile dropped as suddenly as if Bella had slapped her.

"You want to call it off, do you?" she said. This time it was Bella's mouth that dropped open, stunned by the sudden directness and not quite sure how to answer the question. Rachel snickered or snorted or tutted, delighted at her sister. "Do you know how much this wedding is costing?"

Bella shook her head.

"Do you have any idea how much the venue, or these rooms or even your dress costs?" Hot angry tears stung Bella's eyes in response. The Blacks had organised everything. She didn't know how much anything cost because she hadn't been consulted about any of these things.

"No, you don't," said Rebecca.

"Because you rely on Jacob for everything," chimed in Rachel.

"The answer is a fortune," said Rebecca, sitting back down on the sofa. Rachel continued to circle.

"A fortune," repeated Rachel. "Of course," she addressed her sister who had taken out a nail file, "if Charlie wants to chip in for his half of the bill, I'm sure that we could cancel."

"Yes," said Rebecca, delighted. "That would be fair and equitable."

"That's not fair…" began Bella.

"It's more than fair," snorted Rachel. "If you cancel, you pay your share." A wave of nausea swept over Bella. She wasn't sure whether it was the fact that she hadn't eaten anything or the prospect of landing Charlie with a bill of thousands of pounds for her own screw up. Charlie couldn't afford it. Bella certainly didn't have any money of her own.

"But I…" she began.

"No buts," said Rachel. "You entered into a contract when you agreed to marry Jacob. If you cancel it costs."

"But I didn't sign anything," protested Bella, her voice weaker than she had been trying for. Rachel and Rebecca looked at each other and burst out laughing simultaneously.

"What's funny?" said Bella. She managed to inject a smidge of frost into her voice. These two always set her on edge, never more so than when they were laughing at her.

"No contract!" Rebecca was shaking her head, rasping the file over her nails to urge them to even greater points.

"No contract!" Rachel still had her arms crossed across her chest. "Verbal contract, Bella," she intoned, tapping her foot impatiently against the carpet as if trying to explain quantum physics to a child. "It's as binding as if you signed a contract."

"It is," agreed Rebecca, pausing her rasping for a moment, "where do you think the phrase 'my word is my bond' comes from?"

"Um…" Tears welled in the bottom of her eyes, this time borne of despair and not anger. Edward or no Edward, she couldn't bankrupt Charlie.

"Awww," said Rachel with a complete absence of sincerity, "we didn't mean to make you cry."

"You didn't," said Bella, with as much dignity as she could muster, "it's just…"

"I know sweetie," said Rebecca, in a saccharine voice, "you've had a little wobble but you feel better after speaking to Rachel and me."

"Not a problem," said Rachel, putting a hand on her back and gently escorting her toward the door.

"Pleased to help," added Rebecca, her voice muffled, her attention already turned back toward her nails.

"Bye now." Rachel slammed the suite door shut and Bella found herself in the corridor again. Why had she not put her foot down and insisted on a small wedding in Forks? Why had she let the Black family make all the choices? Hell, she thought, as she pushed the button to call the elevator, why had she not seen years ago that he and his family were trouble. In the elevator she pushed the button for her floor, many stops below. She put her head against the wall of the elevator, savouring the cool stainless steel against her hot face. She was going to have to go through with the wedding, that much was obvious. But she deserved something for herself, a good memory to sustain her in the long years ahead. Putting aside any doubts about the wisdom or the selfishness of her choice she resolved to keep her date with Edward.


	21. Chapter 21

**Thanks to Random Rita for the Friday shout out and hello to all the new readers! LL X**

* * *

The Bellagio was much nicer than their hotel. Edward looked up with reverence at the coloured glass artwork on the ceiling. The conservatory, straight ahead, was dressed up for Christmas with exotic flowers and plants, making a beautiful oasis in the man-made sprawl. The hotel even smelled nice, a heady scent of red wine and winter spice, comforting and luxurious. Dressed in jeans, cowboy hat and a clean, white T-shirt he could have felt a little out of place, however tourists in polyester slacks and Hawiian shirts rubbed shoulders with well-heeled high rollers and the atmosphere was generally welcoming.

The atmosphere at the check in desk was a little less welcoming. He and Emmett had queued up for twenty minutes and Emmett had now been arguing with the desk clerk for five minutes. Even dazzling her with his best cowboy charm had not yielded the room number, particularly as Emmett didn't even have a last name to work with.

"Jobsworth," muttered Emmett darkly as he turned away from the desk. "She could at least have offered to leave a message."

"Think," said Edward, changing the subject back to a more pertinent course of enquiry, "you would have seen the room number when you went in, or the floor as you took the elevator."

"I can't remember," said Emmett, for probably the tenth time in the last hour. He scrunched up his face, trying to visualise but after a moment his face fell again. He shook his head, his mouth pressed into a grim line. "I was focused completely on her. I can't remember any of the details."

"Okay," said Edward, in a soothing voice, "let's take a different tack. How long were you in the lift?"

"I don't know," shrugged Emmett, "a little while?"

"High floor? Low floor?" tried Edward.

"Um, if you had to push me I would say it was a middle floor," replied Emmett. "You could see the strip from the room but it wasn't that high."

"Great," said Edward, "we've narrowed it down to somewhere in the middle of the original tower." Emmett nodded, cheered a little, until Edward continued on a sarcastic note. "That's thirty six floors and over three thousand rooms, it shouldn't take long to find them."

"Fuck," replied Emmett, simply.

"Fuck indeed," agreed Edward. They sat down on a velveteen sofa to consider their next move. Edward noted a couple of women throwing appreciative glances in their direction but for once, Emmett didn't appear to notice the attention.

"Why don't we split up?" said Edward. "It's lunchtime and we know they're staying here tonight. There's a good chance that they're somewhere nearby." Emmett nodded a curt agreement. "Let's split up and check out the food and drink spots and casino floor. I think we've got more chance of finding them out in the open. I suspect that knocking on every door on every floor will get us thrown out of this place pretty quickly."

"Good idea," said Emmett. "Meet back here in half an hour?" Edward nodded his agreement and they set off in separate directions. Emmett took the casino floors and the surrounding restaurants whilst Edward wandered past the conservatory and toward the long corridors of shops, restaurants and function rooms. He was methodical, ducking into every shop and bar, checking that Rose and Bella weren't there. The more places he visited the more he felt like a visitor to a strange foreign land. Garish rings at thousands of dollars rubbed shoulders with pastel shoes that cost as much a ten head of cattle. Ten dollar coffees and hundred dollar oysters seemed the norm. Was this the world that Bella lived in? He looked down at his comfortable, scuffed cowboy boots as they stalked rhythmically down the polished tile floors. Another store caught his eyes, heavy gold watches selling for more than his truck cost new. For the first time a horrible shard of self-doubt crept into his mind. Had Bella been slumming it with him? He shook his head and tried to focus on her, on the way that she had given herself to him, the sleepy way that she had snuggled up close to him this morning. She might be living in this world but it didn't mean that she was materialistic.

Finding himself in a quieter corridor on the fringes of the property he stopped for a moment to consult a map. There were a few function rooms in the corridor that he figured he should check for completeness however after that there was little else to do but make his way back to reception and meet Emmett. He set off at a brisk pace down the corridor. Two men crossed his path, an easel between them. Edward stopped to let them cross into one of the rooms. One of the men stood on the corner of the cotton dust sheet. The man cursed as it swept off the canvas underneath, pooling in swirls of white fabric on the dark carpet. Edward inhaled sharply. The men stopped, leaving the image in front of him for a moment. They picked up the dust sheet and threw it back across the image before continuing into the room.

The image was black and white but there could be no mistake. The woman in the picture was Bella, holding hands with a tall, clean cut looking man in a suit. They were both laughing, a posed picture, but one that was infused with warmth. The sign outside the door said the name Black along with tomorrows date. He followed the two men into the room. Rows upon rows of white chairs decorated with black ribbons lined up in front of a small stage adorned with some indoor trees and a wooden pergola covered in fake black and white flowers. There was a small table beside the door with neatly stacked papers on it. One read "Order of Service" and he picked it up and opened it. A few seconds later he scrunched it up in his fist and threw it onto the floor.

"Hey," shouted one of the two men, who had put the easel and canvas down to the left side of the stage. "You shouldn't be in here."

"Sorry," said Edward, tipping his hat. He took a deep breath, trying to bring his shaking voice under control. "My mistake, got a little lost coming back from the bathroom." They turned their attention back to the easel and Edward slipped out of the room. His body sagged like a worn out mattress and he had to lean against the wall for a few moments to gather himself. Rose wasn't getting married, Bella was getting married. Tomorrow. To some generic rich guy by the looks of things. He felt sick to his stomach and took his hat off for a moment, wiping his hand across his suddenly clammy brow. She had been so eager, nervous but trusting, an intoxicating mix of innocence and eagerness. A shadow danced across his memories. She had asked him to put on the cowboy hat. His stomach flipped. She was one of those girls he always warned Emmett about. She had been using him, fulfilling a sexual fantasy before marrying some boring, sterile guy.

Back at reception Emmett waited for him, alone.

"I forgot to tell you," said Edward. "Bella left me a note. I'm supposed to meet her downtown again tonight." If Emmett noticed his white face and unnaturally bright eyes he decided not to say anything. Instead they slipped into their usual brotherly banter, a way of pretending things were normal when each knew that the other was far from fine.

"And you couldn't have told me that half an hour ago?" quipped Emmett.

"It didn't seem that you could wait for tonight," said Edward, flatly.

"I'm going to have to," muttered Emmett.

"Tonight then?" said Edward.

"Tonight," agreed Emmett.

They drove back to the motel in silence, each deep in their own thoughts. Edward would have to tell Emmett the truth but he didn't trust himself to relay the tale calmly quite yet. Edward was going to have to go downtown tonight, that much he knew. But if Bella turned up, what would he do? He didn't trust himself, his usually calm nature was moving, seething around his body in waves of anger, self-pity and desire. He wasn't usually wrong about people and he had such a good feeling about Bella. She was beautiful, softly rounded like a precious gemstone, selfish with his loving when he let her be so and trusting and giving when it came to his own pleasure. How could two people forge the bond that they had when one was due to be married within hours? He tried to hold onto the anger, to grip the tension that made his fingers tap restlessly on the dash and a lump form in his throat. Soon it started to leak away, anger turning to weariness. He couldn't stay angry at her, the woman that he had pictured as his wife within hours of meeting. His head turned over the facts like little hard pebbles but his heart still hoped that there was some mistake, that the feelings they shared were real. He had to see her.


	22. Chapter 22

The _Do Not Disturb_ sign had been taken off of the door so Bella let herself in. The room was dark and silent. Rose was face down on the bed, her head hidden in the pillow, one hand hanging theatrically over the edge. Bella's heart leapt at the sight of her motionless friend. She touched Rose's wrist, hanging over the edge of the bed, and exhaled gratefully as she felt a pulse.

"Not dead," came a muffled voice, "thanks for checking."

"If not dead then…?"

"Freaking exhausted," said Rose. She rolled over onto her back with seemed like a monumental effort. Bella sat down on her own bed. It was a little rumpled, albeit not like Rose's bed which looked like a cyclone had hit. Rose herself looked a little shell shocked, eyes sleepy and hair messy. Bella unzipped her boots and dropped them onto the floor. She peeled off the unicorn socks and threw them away too. She lay back for a moment, letting herself sink into the plush pillows. She wanted to wallow, to scream and cry and feel sorry for herself. But she had to hold it together, she had to stay strong for Charlie. She flipped over onto her side, facing Rose, one arm propping her head up.

"Are you going to tell me how you got so exhausted?" asked Bella.

"You know," said Rose. She stretched like a cat, pushing her arms above her head, wriggling her toes where they stuck out below the sheets. Then she curled up, lying on her side, mirroring Bella.

"I don't know," said Bella, unable to suppress a grin at the satisfied smile on Rose's face, "that's why I'm asking."

"He was amazing," breathed Rose, pulling the sheet tight to her chin like a squirrel saving up memories. "A real gentleman, but between the sheets…" She shook her head.

"Not a gentleman?" ventured Bella.

"Definitely not," said Rose. "We were up all night. We did it in ways I didn't even know were possible." She sighed. "He's so strong." Bella looked around the room suspiciously, wondering how many of the surfaces were now tainted with sweat or other bodily fluids.

"Are you seeing him again?" asked Bella.

"I don't know," a shadow flashed across Rose's face. She tried to cover it with nonchalance but Bella knew her too well. "He left in a bit of a hurry."

"He's in the bull riding tomorrow," said Bella, "he's probably got loads of preparation to do."

"True," said Rose, thoughtfully. "What about you and Edward?"

"Oh, you know," said Bella, avoiding her eyes.

"I don't actually," said Rose, pleased to be turning the tables, "that's why I'm asking."

"We spent the night together," admitted Bella.

"Wow!" squealed Rose, "was it good?"

"Amazing," breathed Bella, biting her lip to try to suppress the joy of the memories.

"You're ditching Jacob now, right?" Rose looked at Bella urgently.

"No," said Bella.

"Why..?" Rose had so many questions that she struggled to bring one out and the word died on incredulous lips.

"This Edward thing," she said, reciting the words that she had practiced in her head, "it's just a little bit of fun before I get married." Rose looked at her and Bella knew that she didn't believe a word of what she was saying. Before she could interrupt Bella rushed on. "Edward is a cowboy, he travels around a lot, meets hundreds of women. I'm just one of many one night stands. There is no future with him."

"He really didn't come across like that," said Rose, softly, "plus, even if there is no future with Edward that doesn't mean that there is a future with Jacob."

"I've made up my mind," snapped Bella. Rose looked hurt but didn't retort. "I told Edward that we'd meet them again tonight."

"You did?" Rose smiled, clearly relishing the possibility of seeing Emmett again. "Wait," her face fell, "it's not really a one night stand with Edward if you see him again, is it?"

"Meh," said Bella, shrugging her shoulders, "potato, tomato, it's all just a fling."

"A fling?" Rose eyed her suspiciously. "Bella Swan, I've no idea what has got into you but it's freaking me out. I'm not sure whether to be happy that you're doing your own thing for once or angry that you're not calling off this stupid wedding."

"Just be my friend," Bella implored. She tried to tell Rose everything with her eyes, to let her know how much her friendship meant, to confess about what the Black twins had threatened her and Charlie with, to tell her how she thought she was falling for somebody that she could never be with. But Rose was hurt or tired or both and rolled over, indicating that she was going back to sleep.

Bella listened to Rose breathe and as her breaths became even she finally let herself go, letting the tears that had been building flow down her cheek and onto the pillow. Her body tightened and shook, stress and anger and self=pity working its way through her veins.

"Move over," it was Rose, Bella must have woken her up. Bella scooted over and Rose put an arm around her. Bella laid her head on Rose's shoulder and the tears came harder, staining her oversized Seahawks T-shirt. Rose stroked her hair, not saying a word as Bella cried and cried and cried.

* * *

"You look great," said Rose.

"Thanks," said Bella. She had on a dress belonging to Rose, a red wrap that showed her cleavage a little but was fairly demure in length. "You look great too." Rose had on a primrose yellow silk dress. It was a difficult sort of colour, the type of dress that would make Bella look washed out but against Rose's lightly bronzed skin it looked delicate and gave her a precious glow. Acres of long tanned leg stretched out of the high hemline.

"Thanks," said Rose. They were downtown, sitting outside one of the casinos under a patio heater, drinking wine. There was something in the air tonight, a buzz, the electric crackle of lightning waiting to discharge, a hum that kept Bella's heart rate high and her nerves almost shot. For the hundredth time she checked her lipstick, several shades darker than she would normally wear, to make sure that it was not on her teeth. Neither of them could relax, compulsively glancing at the spot where they had met last night.

Bella checked her phone. 10PM.

"Don't look now," said Rose, taking a huge gulp of her white wine. "They're here." Bella followed her gaze to see Edward and Emmett walking through the crowd like a dark streak of trouble. People naturally parted to let the two cowboys walk through. Her stomach flipped a little, nothing at all do with the fortifying glasses of wine. Emmett, the taller of the two, cut a dashing figure in a pale hat, crisp white shirt and blue denim jean. Edward looked the polar opposite in a dark cowboy hat and a dark slim fit shirt with white piping tucked into dark jeans. A belt with a sizeable buckle was on the front.

"Did they deliberately dress like yin and yang?" breathed Rose.

"I don't know," said Bella, downing the last of her wine and scrambling to her feet, "but I sure want to find out."

"Bella?" Bella paused. A man she didn't recognise stood beside the table. "Bella Swan? I can't believe it. I've not seen you in years!"

"I'm sorry," said Bella politely, taking in the slightly shiny suit and red face of the portly man, "have we met?" She felt, rather than saw, Rose making her way around the table towards her.

"It's me," he said, left hand firmly in his suit jacket, right hand stretched out in greeting, "Mike Newton, from school."

"Horseshit," said Rose. She grabbed the man's left hand and pulled it out of his pocket before he even noticed that she was there. A tiny Dictaphone fell out of his hand and landed on the table with a tinny clatter. The wheels were moving round and round. "I went to Forks too and you sure as hell aren't Mike Newton." She looked him up and down with a critical eye. "You've got the same height and build and you've tried for the same hairstyle but that's about it."

"Busted," the man's face flushed slightly but he didn't look embarrassed at all about being caught out. He shrugged, "you can't blame a guy for trying."

"What's this about?" asked Bella. The man eyed the Dictaphone, clearly wondering whether it would record the conversation from that distance.

"Yes," agreed Rose, "what the fuck is this about? She picked the Dictaphone up, turned it off, then tossed it back on the tabletop disdainfully.

"Ms Swan," said the man, turning his body toward Bella, "have you any comment on the allegations that your fiancé is using illegal immigrant labour in his business?"

"Sorry?" said Bella.

"Undocumented migrants," explained the man, "working for next to nothing in Black resorts. There is an investigation under way and it's going to hit the press tomorrow."

"No comment," growled Rose.

"Ms Swan," said the man, urgently, glancing from Bella to Rose then directing his pitch towards Bella again. He clearly sensed that his window of opportunity was slipping away, "were you aware of this?"

"Of course n…"

"No comment!" Rose butted in before Bella could finish.

"The Black family have been keen to stress how family orientated the business is," said the man, changing tack with a sly smile. "I understand that you are the CEO's childhood sweetheart?"

"Get out of here," spat Rose. "Bella's not talking to scum like you." Rose picked up both of their coats and physically manouvered a shell shocked Bella away from the table.

"If you really didn't know," yelled the man at their departing backs, "I could put a piece in the Seattle Globe telling your side of the story."

Rose stuck up her middle finger at the man and dragged Bella through the casino floor to the nearest emergency exit.

"Did you know about this?" asked Rose, urgently as the door slammed shut behind them. They could hear the hubbub of downtown but the narrow walls of the alley suppressed much of the noise.

"No, of course not," replied Bella. "Oh…" A thought struck her. "That's why Rachel and Rebecca were so set on me marrying Jacob." She rested for a moment against the brick wall as the adrenaline leaking away from her body had left her knees weak.

"When the hell did you see them?" asked Rose. Bella told her everything.

* * *

"Those bitches," said Rose. She kicked a large industrial plastic trashcan, the noise echoing in the narrow alley. A wave of foul area escaped, making them both wrinkle their faces in disgust. "If anything you should be entitled to a share of the business given all that you've done to help build it."

"I know," said Bella, standing up to full height again. "It seems obvious now but I'm just so used to going along with what the Black family want or expect from me that I just crumbled when faced with the twins and a potential massive bill for Charlie."

"Don't beat yourself up about it," said Rose, gently squeezing her arm. "Those two are masters of manipulation. Half the time I'm not sure if it's Jacob and Billy running the show or whether Rachel and Rebecca are pulling the strings from behind the scenes." She took Bella's other arm and looked into her eyes. "Please tell me that we're going to call off the wedding right now?" Bella nodded and Rose pulled her into an impromptu hug.


	23. Chapter 23

"Edward!" He turned his head to the sound of her voice, not quite believing that it would really be her until he saw her in front of him. She looked amazing, dressed in a red dress with her long dark hair in beautiful luscious waves cascading over her shoulders and down her back. There was something different about her, something he couldn't quite put his fingers on. Her eyes were bright, almost unnaturally so, as if she had a fever. Her face too was flushed and although she was wearing more make-up than he remembered seeing her in it didn't seem to be an effect. Before he could reply she stood on her tiptoes and planted a searing kiss on his lips. He had planned so many things to say to her but his body immediately acceded to her demands, pushing his lips against hers, returning her passion, exploring her mouth with his tongue. He could taste a hint of wine on her lips but as she pulled away her eyes were crystal clear and her body ramrod straight, there was no indication that she was intoxicated.

"Bella," he began, but as he gazed at her the million different ways of challenging her that he had planned in his mind slipped away. All he could manage was a weak, "are you okay?"

"Never better," she replied with a smile that he might have described as bordering on manic. There was definitely something different about her, something that his instincts found disconcerting. "Look Edward, sorry to bail, but there is some important business that I have to take care of."

He nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Can Rose and I come to the motel later?"

"Sure, but…" Before he could question her Bella launched herself at him again, kissing him with the passion of a woman on the edge of something dangerous. As she pulled away Edward took a step back, trying to gain some distance to work out what was going on.

"I'll see you later," she said, as she disengaged Rose from Emmett and pulled her into the crowd.

"What did she say about the wedding?" asked Emmett, rubbing traces of red lipstick from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I didn't get the chance to ask her," said Edward. He watched Bella stride purposefully through the crowd until he couldn't see her head any more, then turned his full attention back to Emmett. "She said she was coming by later though." They both lapsed into thoughtful silence. "Another beer?" asked Edward.

"No thanks," replied Emmett, with a sigh, "let's just go back to the room."

* * *

They found Jacob in a bar on the casino floor in the Bellagio. He sat, in his dark suit and dark shirt, like a rock in the middle of a throng of people. The guys joked and punched each other. Rachel, Rebecca and a couple of other girls flitted between each other and the bar like brightly coloured butterflies. Despite the crowd Jacob appeared alone, nursing a glass of amber coloured liquid as the world went on around him.

"I need to speak to Jacob," said Bella. Every face at the table turned to look at her. "Alone."

"You shouldn't be here," shrieked Rachel. "It's unlucky to see each other the night before the wedding."

"It is," agreed Rebecca, a half full glass of champagne held in one hand at a jaunty angle. They both looked a little worse for wear. Jacob didn't move, didn't even glance up from his drink.

"There won't be a wedding," said Bella, firmly, her voice a little louder than she had meant it to be so that people at surrounding tables turned to look. Jacob finally looked slowly up from his drink.

"That's ridiculous…" slurred Rebecca.

"Stupid b…" began Rachel.

"Enough," said Billy. His voice was quiet and gravelly, commanding the respect to silence the rising hubbub at the table with just one word. "Jacob can speak for himself. Let them talk." He reversed his wheelchair back from his place, indicating that the group should give Jacob and Bella some space. He looked up at Bella for a moment, an unreadable look on his face. She had known Billy as Charlie's friend for most of her life and she had never seen that strange look. He reached out and took her hand, clasping it between his two papery but still surprisingly strong ones. She smiled weakly at him and he nodded briefly in return before rolling away, the rest of the Black entourage reluctantly in tow.

"I've got this," said Bella to Rose who was still hovering at her right shoulder.

"Are you sure?" whispered Rose. Bella nodded. Rose stalked off and slipped onto a high stool at the nearby bar, letting Bella know that she was close by if required. Bella sat down across the table from Jacob. He didn't say a word, just downed the rest of his drink and clattered the glass back down heavily on the faux marble tabletop. She looked at him for a moment, regarding the man she had met when she was only sixteen. He was still handsome, that much was clear, with his broad shoulders, fabulous bone structure and darkest brown eyes, however he didn't look himself. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin tone was closer to grey than its normal healthy glow. For the first time she noticed the smattering of grey hair at his temples. He looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"So…" he began.

"I know," said Bella, simply.

"How?" he asked. He didn't seem surprised, just flat. "Billy?" She shook her head.

"The press," she replied, "a reporter from the Seattle Globe tried to impersonate an old school friend to get me to talk about it downtown." If Jacob was wondering why she was downtown the night before their wedding he decided against saying anything about it.

"I didn't know Bella," said Jacob, running his hands through his hair. "I honestly didn't."

"I don't get it," said Bella, "we've worked so hard to obtain green credentials and to make the resorts more family friendly, why the hell would you jeopardise the Black reputation by employing illegal immigrants?"

"I didn't," said Jacob heavily. "But I should have known when we kept making month on month reductions to the wages bill."

"How long have you known?"

"We got an insider tip-off that the company was going to be investigated a few weeks ago." Angry, bitter bile started to fill Bella's stomach. He had known for weeks and not let her know? "The lawyers said that if I pleaded ignorance and emphasised my family values that we would have the best chance of minimising reputational damage."

"So I was your alibi," muttered Bella, "no wonder you were so keen to bring the wedding date forward after our five year engagement." Her face twisted as another awful thought sprang to mind. "That's why you wanted me to stop taking the contraceptive pill, so that you could get me knocked up straight away."

"No…" Genuine anguish twisted his face as his denial died in his throat before it could be fully formed.

"We can't get married," said Bella.

"I know," replied Jacob.

"Wait," said Bella, "what do you mean you know?" She had expected a bit more of a reaction. She was buoyed up on adrenaline and grim determination, spoiling for a fight for the first time in her adult life. This grim acceptance was not the dramatic row that she had envisioned.

"I should have broken off the engagement months ago," said Jacob. He reached a hand across the table to take one of hers but she pulled it rudely away. "But when we got the tip-off everybody was so keen for the wedding to go ahead that I just went along with it."

"I know that feeling," muttered Bella.

"I'm so sorry," said Jacob. He looked distressed and upset, wallowing in a self-indulgent fug. Bella thought that it perhaps wasn't the best time to tell him that she had met somebody else. Despite her expectation of a fight she wasn't too angry to miss that she now had a chance to extract herself from the wedding without attracting the full wrath of the Black clan.

"I did love you," he said, morosely.

"I know," she replied, in as soothing a tone as she could muster. "We had some good times, back at the beginning."

"I'm so selfish," he said, hitting a balled fist against the tabletop so hard that the empty glass skittered a few millimetre across the glossy surface. "I wasn't ready to let go. You were the last link between now and the old days, you know," a ghost of a smile traced his lips, "back when we didn't have anything to worry about apart from school and where we would find the next parts for your crappy old truck."

He lifted a hand and a cocktail waitress appeared to take a drinks order. Bella glanced at Rose at the bar. Rose glanced theatrically at her wristwatch. Bella shook her head tersely, trying to indicate that this wasn't going to be something that she could wrap up quickly.

"And you honey?" asked the waitress.

"Jack Daniels, straight up," said Bella. Jacob looked at her and raised an eyebrow. He hadn't seen her drink anything more than a single glass of white wine for years. "Make it a large," she added, daring for him to challenge her. He didn't say a word.


	24. Chapter 24

Edward woke with a start, still fully clothed, lying on the surface of the chintzy bedspread. He reached out for his phone and turned it on. 7AM. He must have dozed off a couple of hours ago. Emmett, also fully clothed, sat in the single armchair in the room, his head thrown back at an awkward angle.

Bella hadn't come. The thought struck him harder than a kick in the guts. She had promised to come and she hadn't. That probably meant that she was marrying that rich man from the photograph in a few hours. What could he do? For a brief moment he toyed with the idea of marching over to the Bellagio and stopping the wedding, throwing the door open with a spectacular bang that would make the guests gasp, before sweeping Bella, clad in top to toe white, out of the room swooning in his arms. Yet the rational part of his head quickly countered that it wasn't fair to ruin a wedding and that snatching the bride would probably result in a criminal conviction. He looked at the facts. She had said she would come and he had genuinely believed her. Yet, neither Rose nor Bella had come. They hadn't even given Edward and Emmett last names or phone numbers. With no way of contacting them he had to reach the conclusion that he would never see her again.

He sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rubbing sleep from his eyes with balled fists. He got to his feet and snatched up his truck keys, steeling himself for one last throw of the dice.

* * *

The concierge glanced at Edward's truck, clearly keeping an eye on the idling vehicle. Edward was frozen with indecision. Should he park and go in and try to find her? How would he be able to find her? It was the same problem he and Emmett had suffered from the previous day.

A white van pulled up to the entrance. Two men clad in white chef tunics got out. They opened the back door. A seven tier wedding cake sat on a pallet. It was decorated in an elaborate black and white pattern. The wedding was clearly going ahead. Edward put the truck into gear and drove off with a roar that made the two tunic clad man throw dirty glances at him.

* * *

"Emmett," he shook his brother by the shoulder. "Get up."

"Umphhswuf," Emmett stirred, uttering some unintelligible words before closing his eyes again.

"Get up!" Edward kicked his brother gently in the shin. He sat up, cursing under his breath, immediately stretching and groaning as he tried to work out the kinks accumulated from sleeping in such an awkward position. If he saw that Edward was fully dressed too he didn't rub the salt in the wound of pointing out that Bella and Rose had not come.

"Come on," said Edward. "If we get the livestock loaded up nice and early we can get out of Vegas before the rest of the show traffic."

"Fine," replied Emmett.

"How's your hand?" asked Edward.

"Throbbing," admitted Emmett. He picked up a bottle of water, threw two painkillers in his mouth and washed them down. Edward had a clean dressing out already and pulled the injured hand onto his lap, unwrapping the bandage, swabbing clean the thirteen stitches, still livid, then dressing the wound and wrapping it up again carefully.

"Are you sure you can drive?" asked Edward.

"Yip," said Emmett. "I can do most of it one handed. I just wish I wasn't missing the final." Edward was reminded of a moment at Emmett's cavalier statement that retiring through injury would be better than losing. This wasn't the best time to be reminding his brother of that statement.

"You'll be back on the circuit in no time," said Edward, patting the re-dressed hand.

"Maybe," replied Emmett, but to Edward's ear he didn't sound entirely sure.

* * *

"Nice," said Rose, sidestepping a pool of vomit on the walkway and eying a lone cowboy boot which must have got lost sometime during the previous night's reverlry. "You didn't tell me their motel was quite so.,."

"Shut it," said Bella, without malice, leading Rose towards Edward and Emmett's room. Excitement fluttered in her stomach, her head was almost light as she knocked upon the door of Room 208.

The door swung open. A maintenance man in a clean khaki coverall stood in the doorway, hammer in hand. In the background Bella could see that the room was empty, the beds had been stripped and dirty sheets lay on the floor ready for collection.

"Can I help?" asked the man, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Did the people in this room check out?" asked Bella.

"I guess so," replied the man. "I've been here for about an hour fixing the door so they must have gone first thing."

"Shit," said Bella.

"Thanks," said Rose, to the man. He let the door swing back shut.

"What now?" asked Bella, a note of panic creeping into her voice.

"Emmett's bull riding today," said Rose, excitedly, "we'll go the rodeo and find them."

"But it's sold out," wailed Bella.

"Then we'll get tickets from a scalper outside," said Rose. She grabbed a shaking Bella by the shoulders. "We've come this far, I'm not letting it go until we find those guys again."

* * *

"Uh-oh," said Bella, squinting at the scoreboard. "Emmett's retired from the competition." She looked at Rose with wild eyes, feeling the stress of the last couple of hours and what they had gone through to get here and get the tickets. "How are we going to find them?"

Even Rose was starting to look a little frazzled after all night in the bar and the stress of the morning. She stopped for a moment, thinking.

"You know where his horse is, don't you?" asked Rose.

Bella thought about little Angus for a moment. She remembered his velvet nose and his friendly little whicker. Thinking harder she remembered the colour code and the number of the block of stalls that he was lodging in. She nodded.

"The only issue," said Bella, "is that access to the livestock is strictly controlled. How will I get in?"

"Distraction," said Rose, with a smug smile that indicated that she was a woman used to being a distraction.

* * *

With the security guard appropriately distracted by Rose asking for directions with the top button of her shirt undone Bella slipped past her and into the stables. Unlike when she had visited with Edward they were a hive of activity and she immediately relaxed, quite confident that nobody would challenge one more person. She found a map and located the block of twelve stables that Angus was in. Suppressing the urge to break into a trot she walked as fast as she could.

A familiar little Chestnut face with a squint stripe hung over a door. Her heart started beating faster. She didn't know if ponies could recognise people but Angus seemed to be pleased to see her, letting her pet his velvet nose and rudely nudging her to see if she had any treats for him. The rosettes had been taken off of the bars of the stall and Angus had bandages on his feet and wrapped around his tail. It looked as if he was ready for travel.

"Can I help you?" It was a small, fierce looking redhead with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm looking for Edward," said Bella.

"Who's asking?" said the redhead, suspiciously. Her tone had become even more hostile at the sound of Edward's name.

"A friend," said Bella, not quite ready to confide in this suspicious little character.

"He's gone," said the redhead, abruptly.

"But what about Angus?" asked Bella, the words slipping from her lips without thinking of their implications.

"Angus?" she said, with a hard peal of laughter. "Angus is my pony, he's coming home with me." She eyed Bella, as if trying to get the measure of her. "Edward will get to see Angus at home."

Bella stood stock still for a moment, not quite sure what to do. She was sure that Edward had said that he had two brothers, yet this woman was talking about home with a kind of familiarity that made her uncomfortable. The redhead glared at her as if she was stupid then let herself into the stall, ignoring Bella as she picked up grooming equipment and assorted bits of tack and packed them into a plastic crate.

Bella suddenly felt hot and a little faint. The once comforting smell of horse suddenly seemed cloying and thick. She reached out and grabbed the bars of the loosebox, steadying herself. The redhead peered over the door of the stall. "Are you okay?" she asked. Bella nodded, trying to blink and breathe through the hot flush of the nausea. "Lady," said the redhead, in a more sympathetic tone. "You won't be the first girl to get taken in by one of those Cullen brothers and you sure as hell won't be the last." Bella looked at her, trying to focus. "What you need to understand is those boys are Montana through and through. Sure," she shrugged, "they all try their hand at rodeo, and drinkin' and women." She looked pointedly at Bella. "But they all come back to the country in the end."

Bella's stomach heaved and hot vomit gushed out of her mouth in a surprise stream. The redhead muttered something about it being gross, then opened the loose box door and led Angus out and towards the loading area. The last link that she had to Edward disappeared out of her tilted field of vision with a jaunty swish of tail as she threw her guts up in the aisle of a busy stable block.

* * *

Edward pulled onto the interstate and set the truck to cruise control at a sensible speed for the bulls that he was hauling behind him. For the first time in the day he found himself alone. The day was bright, midwinter sunlight blazing onto the tarmac ribbon that wound hundreds of miles across the desert until the sand gave way to grass. Angry tears prickled at his eyes and without Emmett to see he allowed himself the self-indulgence of letting a few fall. He brushed them away angrily with the sleeve of his soft cotton shirt. How could somebody that he had known for such a short time have such an effect on him? How could she get married to somebody else given the connection they had forged and the night that they had spent together? Why hadn't she come last night? Frustrated, he punched the steering wheel, discharging the horn in a dark hoot. There was a lot that he didn't know. What he did know, without a shred of doubt, that he would never be able to forget her.

* * *

 **Hi folks, thanks for sticking around to this stage. I leave for two weeks holiday today so I hope that you enjoy the three chapters which, coincidentally, take us to what I like to think of as a season break. Bella's finally found something work fighting for but it's been too late to stop Edward driving off, broken hearted. Will we ever get a happy ending?**

 **Thanks to Random Rita and The Lemonade Stand for pointing people this way and AliciaW68 for general support. If you have not read her fab entry for the Mobward contest, The Next Mrs Cullen then you need to get yourself over there right now. I'm pleased to say that I will be her beta as that story expands!**

 **I'll catch you all in a couple of weeks. Many thanks for the likes, the follows and the comments, both good and bad. LL x**


	25. Chapter 25

Edward pulled his light summer jacket tighter around him. It was technically summer in Forks but with the sun starting to set behind a cloud the air was chill. It had a dampness about it that was quite unlike the dry cool that he was used to in Montana. The air smelled different too. It was damp, laced with hints of salt and greenery. The closest approximation that he could make was that slightly slimy scent that lingered in the air the morning after a heavy spring rain.

He had left his rental car in the parking lot of the small drugstore on main street with the intention of walking to her house. He didn't have to look at the tattered scrap of paper that he had printed from Google Maps a few weeks ago, he knew all of the street names off by heart. He ticked them off in his head as he walked. James, Cherry, Madison and Spring. Finally the street sign declaring Pine Road came into view. House number 2200 was a modest, white painted single story. A battered classic Chevy clad in rust and red sat outside on the driveway. He took a deep, shuddering breath. This was the closest that he had been to Bella for six long months. The time elapsed had been painfully slow, the grind of life on the farm punctuated by periods of self-loathing, anger and longing. Longing to know what had happened to her. Longing to know why she hadn't come to him. Longing to know whether she was happy with the smiling guy from the black and white picture.

Now that he was here he didn't quite know what to do. He stood for a moment, looking at the pretty little house and pondering his next move. The house was small, which surprised him. Given how gaudy the wedding set-up was he had expected something grand, an antebellum mansion with Spanish Moss fringed trees flanking a long driveway or a modern monstrosity of concrete and glass rising out of the ground like a monolith. This was unexpected, as was the classic truck. He squinted a little. It was a 1950's Chevrolet C10 Sidestep. It was pretty neat. Impractical for the ranch but a cute run around with plenty of load space.

A car appeared at the top of the street and he started walking down Pine Road, suddenly aware of how he must look stood outside of her house. The car passed by, a black Range Rover with tinted windows driving way too fast for the residential road. It slid into the space beside the Chevrolet truck, stopping abruptly just inches away from the porch. The man from the Bellagio photograph got out.

* * *

"Rose?" Bella called, having heard the front door open.

"It's Jacob," bellowed Jacob. He burst into the kitchen with a huge grin on his face, with all the finesse of a puppy.

"Jacob," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "We've talked about this, you can't just barge in like that." She made a mental note to start locking the door behind her when she was in the house alone.

"I know," he said, still grinning, "but Sylvie's new advert aired today and I wanted to show you." Bella looked at him. She wanted to tell him no, to finish wrapping her taquitos for the oven, to speak to him on her own terms, but she could tell by his excitement that he wouldn't settle down until she had indulged him. Dispassionately she wondered why she had never aroused this level of excitement in him when they were together.

"Okay," she said and before she could even wipe her hands he had thrust his mobile phone in her face. It was a perfume advert, pretentious and filmed in pastels. Sylvie was tall and slim and virtually naked, rolling in a meadow of pastel wildflowers. Bella could almost see her nipples. Was it weird to be standing with your ex-fiance looking at virtually nude images of his new lover?

"Lovely," she said, when the advert had finished and Jacob flicked the phone screen off and put it back into his pocket. "Where is she now?"

"Paris," he frowned. "She's in New York next week so I'll fly across and we can grab a night or two together."

"That's nice," said Bella.

"How's Rose?" asked Jacob. He looked at the two place settings on the table. "I guess that she's coming tonight?" Bella nodded. Jacob eyed the food she was preparing and stretched out a hand to take some of the cooked chicken. She swatted it away. "I saw her on television," he said, leaning back against the light wood kitchen units. "That's a career making case she's on."

"That's a high pressure case," said Bella. She pulled a chair out and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. "I'm really worried about her."

"Rose can handle it," said Jacob. He pulled out another chair and sat down at the table with her. "She will probably make partner if she gets Riley Biers acquitted."

"She's a little conflicted about the morality of the case," said Bella.

"She chose to go into criminal law," said Jacob with a shrug, "if you want the big money you've got to defend the guys that did it as well as the ones that didn't." Bella didn't answer. Jacob still saw the world in shades of black and white. He couldn't comprehend why the biggest and most lucrative case of Rose's career could be the most difficult emotionally.

"So," said Bella brightly, deliberately changing the subject, "why are you here?"

"I just wanted to let you know that the final instalment of the money will be in your account this week."

"Your lawyer could have told me that over the phone," said Bella, slipping her shoes off her swollen feet and putting them up on a spare chair. "You didn't have to come all the way over here to tell me that."

"I know," said Jacob. He glanced down at the table and when he raised his head and looked at her again there was a faint pink flush on his cheeks. "I wanted to come." He glanced around the cosy kitchen with the wooden units, deep Belfast sink and old, solid table. "This was our first place and we were happy here, weren't we?"

"We were," Bella nodded. A lump formed in her throat. They had been happy here. Young and in love, excited about a future together. Jacob had offered to buy her a new house as part of the settlement but she had asked for this one. The Black family had been renting it out and with the last tenant recently vacated she had been able to move in straight away. It was modest, comfortable and cosy and Bella adored it.

"I always thought it would be me helping you bring a baby into the world," he said softly. Her hands automatically went to the six month bump bundled under her piglet print apron. She knew it wasn't just pregnancy hormones filling her eyes with tears. It was longing. Longing for a family, for a father for her baby. A visceral, almost physical longing for somebody to hold her and tell her everything would be alright, to rub her swollen feet, to hold her hand as the miracle inside pushed its way out of her. "I could still…"

"No," she snapped, "we've been over this, we are not going to pretend this is your baby. It's not fair."

"Not fair on who?" said Jacob. He stood up and paced across to a cupboard. Bella had to bite her tongue as he took a glass from a cupboard and filled it with water from the tap. "The baby deserves a father."

"Just leave it, Jacob," she growled. "Me and the baby will be fine."

"Suit yourself," said Jacob. He seemed put out and she wondered how much of a personal affront he thought that her refusal of help was. They had split up on relatively good terms and he had stayed friendly, perhaps a little too friendly. She had put it down to nostalgia again, her connection to a happier, simpler past, however this felt different.

"I've got some new nursery furniture," she told him, in a flash of inspiration. "It's flat pack and I have no idea how to put it up. Could you…?"

"Of course," he said, with a grin. He put the glass down on the side and started rolling up his shirt sleeves. "I'll start right now."

"You don't have to…" said Bella.

"Not a problem," said Jacob, downing the remainder of the water and putting the glass on the side, "I want to help." She bristled a little inside. He didn't wash the glass up or stack it in the dishwasher, just left it on the side for her to clear up. It reminded her again of why they were better apart. She smiled, willing herself to ignore it. He means well, she told herself, and with a baby coming into her world in only three months she needed all the help that she could get.

* * *

"What time is it?" mumbled Emmett as Edward put on the harsh overhead light.

"Two," replied Edward gruffly. He sat on the bed and pulled off one cowboy boot and then the other, dumping them carelessly on the hotel room carpet.

"Did you see her?" asked Emmett, sitting up, rubbing the backs of his hands against his eyes.

"I saw them," said Edward.

"Them?"

"Them," affirmed Edward, "playing happy families."

"That doesn't mean…"

"She was pregnant," said Edward, flatly.

"Oh," replied Emmett. "Did they look happy?"

"Yes," said Edward. "I watched them for a while." His throat thickened as he remembered those moments, stood in her garden, watching them in that light, bright kitchen together. The last few months had felt like he was living in a state of suspended animation, a toy cowboy in a snowglobe, waiting for something to happen. Tonight it felt like somebody had taken that snowglobe and shook it. Shook it so hard that not only was the snow whirling around but the ground underneath his feet had come dislodged. He was whirling around, ungrounded, uncertain, unsure how things would look when the snow and his body finally settled. He hated himself for his passivity but once he had seen her with her husband he couldn't do it. He couldn't knock on the door, couldn't bring himself to ask all the questions that remained unanswered. Marriage was sacred, what right did he have to march in there and demand answers?

"Oh well," said Emmett, with a fake brightness that must have been a struggle for him at that time of the morning. "At least we have the `Reproductive Strategies for Rare Breeds' lecture in the morning. That's the part of the conference we have been waiting on." Edward couldn't bring himself to reply. He just shucked off his shirt and jeans, switched off the light and curled up under the comforter for a long night of wakefulness.


	26. Chapter 26

"Bella," bellowed Rose good naturedly, "I'm freezing! I refuse to let you turn down that air conditioning any further!"

"I'm so hot," replied Bella. She was eight and a half months pregnant. The pretty turquoise ditzy print dress that had looked so fresh this morning was clammy now, clinging to her uncomfortably. Her face was damp, her carefully blow dried hair sticking to her forehead. The indian summer was in full swing, a heatwave sweeping across the mid West and the great plains leaving the grass at the side of the road brown and dead and the air dry.

"Put the cooled seats on again," suggested Rose.

"I can't," said Bella plaintively, "they make me want to pee."

"Okay," laughed Rose, "we've had more than enough pee stops on this road trip. I think I've seen every gas station between Forks and Montana. If I had my Go Pro we could have made a documentary and uploaded it to YouTube."

"Are you forgetting that you insisted we come?" said Bella, taking a dog eared magazine from the door pocket and using it to waft air at her face. "You've got to take some responsibility."

"I could shake you sometimes, Isabella Swan." Rose took an iced coffee with all the ice melted from the central cup holder and took a sip. She grimaced and put the warm drink back in the cup holder. "First of all your excuse was sorting things out with Jacob, then it was not bringing Edward into things while the investigation was ongoing," she glanced across at Bella.

"I told you," retorted Bella, "it wouldn't be fair."

"Jacob chucked his sister under the bus!" said Rose. "That was the quickest investigation I've ever seen."

"Bitch deserved it," muttered Bella, "it was a crying shame what happened to those Vietnamese illegals under Rebecca's watch."

"Not the point," said Rose. "That was all resolved months ago. You should have contacted Edward then." Bella crossed her arms across her chest. She had heard these arguments from Rose repeatedly over the last few months. "It doesn't matter how you feel about him, he needs to know that he's got a child on the way."

"I don't expect him to pay anything," said Bella, quietly. Her hands moved to her bump, stroking it in the way that had become natural to her over the last few months. "I mean, it was a one night thing."

"It's not the money," said Rose. "Although," she added, seriously, "as your lawyer I do advise you that he has an obligation to care for the child." She changed tone again. "It's the morals of the matter. He has to know that he is a daddy. It's not fair to keep it from him. In fact, it's downright selfish." Tears pricked Bella's eyes. She knew that what Rose was saying was right. It was pride that had kept her from contacting Edward.

Before she knew that she was pregnant she had harboured a wonderful fantasy. With Jacob out of the picture and Bella safely installed in her own little house she would go to him. He would be pleased to see her and would sweep her off her feet and make her his wife. It was simple and powerful, a talisman that she kept close to her chest, that sustained her when the Black twins were trying to bully her into walking away with nothing and when Jacob was leaning heavily on her during the weeks of the investigation. However, now things were different. Turning up with a baby felt like blackmail. Would he feel like he had to marry her? She would never know if he felt for her or just felt the obligation towards their offspring.

A gas station swam into view, some distance in the horizon.

"I've got to stop again," said Bella. She glanced at Rose who smiled and shook her head.

"In that case," replied Rose, "episode one hundred and thirty five of `Gas Station Bathrooms of North America' coming up."

* * *

Fort Troy, Montana was a dusty little town. The low rise main street had a liquor store, a couple of grocery stores and a fishing tackle store as well as a little diner and a gas station. The buildings were a mixture of red brick and wood. The signs at the gas station looked like they belonged in a museum, rashes of dust bubbling up through the once bright paintwork. Behind them was wide open space and in the distance, miles away the down were mountains, a beautiful shimmery mirage in the distant heat.

"Let's stop at the diner for some lunch," said Bella.

"No," said Rose, "we're so close. We can't stop now."

"I'm hungry," said Bella, "and you know how my heartburn gets if I don't eat."

"Oh I know," said Rose with a resigned sigh, pulling her SUV into an empty space in front of the diner. "We've spent this entire journey indulging your bladder and your appetite."

"Sorry," said Bella. "I know I said I would do some of the driving but I've been so tired."

"You're pregnant," shrugged Rose, flipping the gearstick into park, "and I've got time on my hands." Bella looked across at Rose, wondering if she would finally open up as to why she wasn't at work after winning the biggest case of her career however Rose studiously avoided her gaze and opened the car door. Bella unclipped her seat belt and opened her own door. She gripped the grab bar and stepped carefully out into the street.

A bell on the diner door rang out their arrival. The lights were on and there was country music playing at a low level however the diner was deserted. It was a long, slim space with booths along the left hand wall and a row of stools on the right set up in front of a Formica counter. The smell of fresh brewed coffee filled the air.

"Take a seat," hollered a female voice from somewhere out back, "I'll be right out."

They took a seat at a booth with red leather seats. The diner was small but it was scrupulously clean.

"Good morning," a plump lady in a peach dress with white trim speed walked out of the kitchen and braked suddenly in front of their booth. "How are we today?" She dropped two laminated menus in front of Bella and Rose.

"Good," said Bella.

"Great, thanks," smiled Rose.

"No specials today, I'm afraid, it's just what's on the menu." Rose and Bella nodded their understanding. "Can I start you off with some drinks?"

"Coffee," said Rose.

"Hmmm, shall I leave the pot?" said the waitress with a smile. "You look like you need it.

"Perfect," said Rose, nodding her head.

"A strawberry milkshake," said Bella.

"You got it," she smiled. "You're lucky you came in when you did, I was just about to close up."

"Is it always this quiet?" asked Rose, looking around again at the empty space.

"Hell no," said the waitress, one hand on hip, "this would usually be the lunchtime rush. There's a big wedding on in town, most everybody is there."

"I love the idea that the whole town goes to the wedding," said Rose.

"Oh, when it's one of the old ranching families, like the McCaig's or the Cullen's then everybody will turn out to that church, whether they've been invited or not."

Bella started to feel hot. Rose looked over at her, concerned.

"Who's getting married today?" asked Bella, softly.

"One of those wild Cullen brothers apparently," said the waitress, leaning in to the table conspirationally. "I mean, I don't know the family myself, being new to town and all, but it seems a few hearts are breaking."

Bella stood up and stumbled out of the booth and towards the ladies bathroom. She opened the door and let it slam immediately behind her, resting her clammy back against the mercifully cool wood. She felt like she was having a panic attach. Her breath was coming in hot, thick gulps and blood was pulsing through her veins so fast that spots danced in front of her eyes. She closed her eyes and willed her body to take in long, slow breaths. The diner was so quiet that she could hear Rose and the waitress talking outside.

"Is she alright?" asked the waitress.

"Fine, I think," said Rose, in a bright tone that Bella knew was fake. "Eight and a half months pregnant and full of hormones."

"Wait a minute," said the waitress, in a low, urgent voice, "you guys don't know any of the Cullen brothers do you?"

"Oh no," said Rose, laughing gaily, a little too loud, "we're just passing through." She paused. "One of those Cullen brothers is the rodeo champion, right?"

"He sure is," agreed the waitress, "but it's definitely not him that is getting married today." Bella held her breath. "The younger one is still in school so I think it's the oldest one."


	27. Chapter 27

"How do you feel?" asked Emmett. He took a couple of tins of beer out of the kitchen fridge and set one on the kitchen table in front of Edward. Edward opened his mouth to refuse the beer but something stopped him in his tracks. He picked up the cold tin, pulled the ringpull and took a long swig of the fizzy, tasteless liquid.

"Like a dressed up chimp," muttered Edward, pulling at his tight shirt collar. Emmett pulled out a chair and sat down at the table beside him. "I just never thought my wedding day would be like this." He had thought about this moment, many times and in millions of permutations over the last few months. In every version he was marrying Bella. Sometimes her hair was up, sometimes it cascaded down her back in glossy mahogany waves and in every dream she smiled at him as she walked down the aisle, her dark eyes glowing. Sometimes she was in a white dress, sometimes a red one and in one particularly memorable dream they married on the beach with Bella in a white bikini. That particular fantasy had left him with a morning erection of a magnitude not experienced since he was a teenager.

"You've got to forget about her," said Emmett. He looked around the room furtively to check that their mother was nowhere near, then leaned back and put his boots on the table. "She's married. You saw her, happy and pregnant. She's just another red herring. You've got to move along with your life."

"What do you think this is?" asked Edward, grumpily.

"A big mistake," said Emmett, taking a huge swig from his own beer.

"It's the right thing to do," replied Edward. "Norm is so ill that May is running that whole place by herself because the old goat is too stubborn to admit he can't do it anymore. With May and I married Norm won't have to worry about her future, plus he won't be able to complain about his son in law helping out."

"Not to mention that sweet Creekside land," said Emmett with a knowing wink.

"It's not about the land…"

"Then what is it about?" asked Emmett. "I don't know where you get these strange notions of right and wrong but marrying somebody you don't love is plain wrong."

"It works for May too," snapped Edward, "she makes her father happy, gets some help around the ranch and loses the old maid tag that she's terrified of being stuck with."

"Fuck Edward," said Emmett, "I would almost respect you more if you were doing it for the land. For being the clever one you're remarkably stupid."

"If you have something to say," said Edward, icily, "just come out and say it."

"May Wexler," said Emmett, taking his feet off the table and leaning forward, talking to Edward in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, "has loved you since she was six years old and you brought her to meet Cupcake for the first time."

"No…"

"Yes," hissed Emmett. "She loves you and she always has done. She's always had the romantic notion that you guys will end up together. You don't love her. You don't even love the thought of her land. You're just in love with some crazy notion of sacrifice, the worst type of self-harm given you can't have the girl you really love. This whole thing is a recipe for disaster."

Before Edward could reply their mother wafted into the room in a cloud of soft musk perfume. They sprang apart, both looking at her guiltily.

"Ma," said Edward, getting to his feet, "you look lovely."

"Thank you," she trilled, smoothing her brand new dusky pink dress over her thighs. "I'm just so happy that my little boy is getting married." She pulled Edward into a tight, loving hug that made him sick to the stomach.

* * *

"The honeymoon suite?" exclaimed May. "That's so sweet!"

"A surprise from my parents," said Edward. The Fort Troy Resort was a few miles out of town. It was beautiful, but dated. The room was huge, the walls clad in light wood panelling. The bed was four poster, so high that petite May would have to clamber onto it. A kindly member of staff had spread rose petals onto the bed, teardrops of blood red on the cream comforter.

The wedding had run smoothly. May looked the prettiest that he had ever seen her as she walked down the aisle of the dusty church in her grandmothers's vintage lace dress. Norm walked her down the aisle slowly, one hand gripping onto his daughter for support, the other using a stick. He was a proud man and although it was clearly a struggle he walked her all the way to the altar, kissing her once clumsily on the cheek before collapsing into a nearby pew. Edward saw that he was crying. The older man pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and staunched the flow of tears for a moment. It was clear how much the day meant to him. Edward looked around the church. His mother was crying too. Other relatives looked at them, the weight of expectation was almost visceral. Was he the only one who didn't feel anything?

He excused himself and went into the bathroom of the honeymoon suite. It was a modern, fresh room, recently renovated, with a sunken spa bath big enough for two gleaming in the corner. He felt it's presence while he relieved himself, the suggestion hanging in the air like an unfinished question. What were they going to do in the honeymoon suite?

May excused herself, disappearing into the bathroom with an overnight bag, her eyes bright. He pulled the drapes, turned on a bedside lamp and switched off the overhead light. He stripped down to his boxer shorts and slipped between the soft sheets. He picked up the remote control, planning to turn the television on, when a crack of light announced that she was done. He turned his head towards the bathroom door. The harsh light shone behind her. Silhouetted in the door he realised that she didn't have her dress on any more. Her hair had been freed from the confines of it's tight updo. He gulped, he could see the outline of her body and he thought for a moment she was naked.

She turned off the light and stalked across the room into the soft yellow pool of light cast by the lamp. She wasn't naked, she was dressed in lingerie. White, lacy lingerie with garters, the type he had only seen on television. Her cheeks were flushed, the glow of anticipation spreading to her chest. A horrible thought pierced his stomach. He had dismissed Emmett's comments this morning but what if he was right? What if May had entirely different expectations of this partnership? What if he was going to break May's heart the same way that Bella had broken his?

She got up onto the bed, crawled across the comforter on all fours then reached a tentative, trembling hand out to stroke his stomach.

"May," he said softly, "I'm sorry. Every man in two counties wanted to buy me a drink today. I'm in no state."

"Ed," she whispered, moving her hand down under the covers to the waistband of his boxer shorts. The nickname and its assumption of familiarity put his teeth on edge. "I want to make this legal, I'm sure with a little persuasion…"

"Stop," said Edward, taking her wrist gently and stopping the southern descent of her hand. "I'm too drunk. Not tonight." She stopped and looked at him, a myriad of emotions playing across her face. Hurt, self-doubt then finally, anger. She bounced off of the bed and disappeared back into the bathroom. Edward scooted down under the sheets and rolled over. She was gone a few minutes and when he felt her weight on the bed he concentrated on breathing evenly to give the illusion of slumber.

She got under the covers but did not touch him. The light turned off. He was almost asleep, exhausted by the long day and the drinking when he heard a noise, a sound that twisted in his stomach like a knife. She was crying. It was their wedding night and May was crying herself to sleep. He wanted to comfort her but the bed was so large and soft that the space between them felt like an unassailable gulf. He closed his eyes and continued to feign sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

**Hey guys, I'm glad you're all still with me! To answer the main question I have been asked we are going to be fast forwarding in time now and I do not intend the angst to continue on forever. Apologies for no update last week. I had work, final choir rehearsals for my show, volunteering and a trip to London so life just got in the way.**

 **If you are looking for something else to read I am currently doing Beta work for AliciaW68 and her Mobward story with a twist, The Next Mrs Cullen, so do head on over there because it is hot and fun!**

 **Thanks again, LL x**

* * *

"Cheers." Two champagne glasses clinked together. Bella took a sip of the cold elderflower flavoured spritz.

"I wish it was champagne," she sighed, rubbing her nine month swollen pregnancy belly. The list of things that she wasn't allowed to have was grating on her. She could have murdered a burger cooked medium, smothered in melted blue cheese with a cold beer on the side. "Rose," she said, "I really wouldn't have minded if you had real champagne. Just because I can't do anything fun doesn't mean that you have to suffer."

"I don't mind," said Rose, curling her legs up beneath her on Bella's new cream corner sofa. "Besides," she said, setting her glass carefully down on a coaster, "you could go into labour any minute, I need to be able to drive."

"Don't be silly," said Bella, sitting back and resting her feet on the footstool with a little sigh. "First babies are usually late."

"Still," said Rose with a wry smile, "I'm not taking the chance."

"You'll need to go back to work some time," said Bella, pointedly. Rose didn't reply. She fingered the champagne glass, took another sip of the elderflower spritz then finally tucked her hair behind her ear and raised her head to look directly at Bella.

"I'm not going back." Her jaw was tight, her chin jutting out defiantly. Bella winced. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," said Bella, waving away Rose's concern, "just some indigestion. Now why aren't you going back?"

"Riley Biers."

"But you won that case," said Bella. "Didn't you?"

"I did," said Rose, but her face was far from triumphant. "He was guilty." Bella nodded. "Guilty as sin. I might have won but I felt awful about myself."

"Rose," said Bella gently, "you knew the deal when you moved from the District Attorney's office."

"I did," said Rose. Her eyes were glassy, tears gathering threatening to spill out and down her face. "I knew some of the people I represented weren't necessarily whiter than white but it was all part of the game. I wanted partner. I wanted all the money and kudos that comes along with that. But Riley…." Her voice tailed off. "What he did…" Tears did start rolling down her cheeks. She pulled her long sleeved T-shirt over her hand and rubbed the tears away angrily, so hard that the soft cotton left red marks on her lightly tanned cheeks. Bella noticed that her hands were shaking too. "That gang of kids…."

"Oh Rose," Bella reached out to her friend. Rose let Bella hug her. The tears were falling thick and fast now, Rose's body heaving.

"They offered me partner," she sobbed, "but I couldn't accept. I just walked out. I've been signed off with stress ever since but they stop paying me next week so I need to make a decision."

"You can stay here as long as you want," said Bella. "It's been great having you around for the last couple of months."

"Thanks," sniffled Rose, gratefully. "I know I always used to laugh at the local guys and their humdrum little caseloads but that's starting to look like a pretty good option for me right now." She laughed, bitterly. "I even talked to a realtor last week about putting my apartment in Seattle onto the market. I've barely had it a year, it's going to cost me money."

Bella winced, a hand automatically shooting to her belly.

"Wait a minute…" Rose sat back and eyed Bella suspiciously. "Was that a contraction?"

"I don't know," said Bella defensively, "I've never had a baby before."

"You lied..!" Rose raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth into a surprised little O.

"I'm sorry," said Bella. "That's the first time you've opened up about what happened and I didn't want to stop you mid flow."

"Yes," said Rose in a sarcastic tone, "because having a baby is such a distraction!"

"Okay," said Bella, wincing again. "I think that really was a contraction. We'd probably better get to the hospital."

* * *

Bella lay in the starchy white sheets of the hospital bed, exhausted. A beautiful baby girl, her beautiful baby girl, lay in a little cot at the foot of the bed. She had just fed for the first time and had fallen into a milk induced sleep. The baby smell still filled Bella's nostrils. She couldn't quite believe that the fragrant, perfect little human being had come from inside her. Everything had changed in the moment that she held the perfect, mewling little bundle in her arms. It felt like the very stars had realigned to make her baby the centre of the universe.

She glanced across at Rose, curled up in a chair in the corner of the room, also exhausted after staying with Bella through every moment of the eleven hour labour. She had been amazing, only blanching at the very end of the process at the sight of the afterbirth, which in all honesty had freaked Bella out a little as well. Rose had rung Charlie and Sue. Bella knew that they weren't too pleased that Bella wouldn't tell them about the father of their grand-daughter however Charlie had sounded relieved that Bella was fine and excited to meet the new arrival. They were coming to see her during the morning visiting hours.

It was a little before 5AM and around the corners of the grey window blind the darkness of the night was starting to give way to dawn. Bella rolled over and reached into the overnight bag that Rose had stashed down the side of her bed. A pad of traditional heavy writing paper, half finished, and a fountain pen were tucked into a side pocket. She had started this letter so many times since her and Rose had decided that gate crashing the wedding was a bad idea but she had never been able to finish it. Whatever words she wrote had seemed contrived and schmaltzy or worse, if she tried for neutral the words sounded cold and detached. Now that their daughter had been born the letter would be simpler, more factual.

 _Dear Edward,_

 _I am writing to let you know that you have a beautiful baby daughter. Esme Rose Swan was born today, healthy and happy at a little over seven pounds. I appreciate that this may come as a bit of a surprise given that we only spent one night together._

 _I know that you are married now and you might not want to be involved in her life however that is your choice to make. You deserve to know the truth and Esme deserves to know her father._

 _Bella_

She looked at the brief letter for a moment then added her address, telephone number, cellphone number and email address. She rolled over and stuffed the letter back into the same pocket of the overnight bag. She drifted back into a fitful sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Edward stood on the verandah watching the sun rise over the plains. In the distance brown and white specks undulated in slow patterns as the herd grazed. A single bird burst into song. Angus stood in the field nearest the house under the trio of ponderosa pines that had given the ranch it's name, head dipped low, one hoof resting as he dozed on three legs, tail swishing occasionally to keep the flies at bay. A timber skeleton rose out of the ground a couple of hundred metres away from the main ranch house.

Carlisle and Esme had gifted them the land and the funds to build a new house. They had lived with Carlisle's parents for the first ten years of their marriage and so felt strongly that Edward and May should have their own place. Edward had thrown himself into doing the work, spending every waking hour that he wasn't working on the ranch digging foundations and putting in the timber beams. From where he was standing the carcass of the house looked like a jail cell, the space between the beams a cruel reminder of what was beyond them. His mother was far from subtle when she suggested a five bedroom plan so that they had plenty of room to start a family. He and May were civil. Yet there were times when they talked about the house that she smiled a secret smile and he knew then that she harboured hope for their marriage. The house was the symbol of everything that she had ever wanted; a husband, a family. He was trying, he really was, however he couldn't help harbour his own fear that he would continue to disappoint her and that a new house and their own private space wouldn't actually change anything.

Edward sighed. This should be everything that he had ever dreamed of but the land that he once loved felt cold and inhospitable. He knew that he wasn't in love with May but he was going to try to pretend. What was going to be harder was pretending that he hadn't fallen out of love with Montana and the lifestyle that had once meant everything to him.


	29. Chapter 29

**Guys, a quick note, the last chapter did not have a ten year time slip. What I was trying to say is that Carlisle and Esme had lived with Carlisle's parents for ten years, hence they wanted the newlyweds to get their own place a lot sooner than that. I obviously phrased it badly as a few people have commented on the time gap! Edward was looking out at dawn on the ranch at the same time that Bella was writing to him. I am going back now to update the last chapter but thought that this warranted a note so that there wasn't any confusion for the regular readers.**

 **To be clear, this next chapter takes place four years and three months after the wedding and Esme's birth. If I may say so myself, it's getting exciting! LL x**

* * *

"Miss," came a little voice, a shock of dark hair barely reaching above Bella's desk, "this is for you." A pudgy little hand carefully pushed a white porcelain mug with the words `Best Teacher Ever' emblazoned across it towards her.

"But I'm not a proper teacher yet…" began Bella.

"That's lovely," interrupted Leah from behind Bella. She reached across and picked up the mug. "Bradley, you are so thoughtful!"

"Thank you miss!" Bradley almost skipped away.

"Stop being so modest," said Leah, smiling, "a five year old kid can't make the distinction between an experienced teacher and somebody like you who's almost fully qualified. He just likes you."

"I guess so," said Bella. She picked up the mug and carefully spun it around. "My first ever present. I will always treasure this."

"I said that five years ago," said Leah with a snort. She opened the bottom drawer of her desk. It was a deep drawer stacked with mugs, photo frames and ornaments, all emblazoned with some sort of favourite teacher message. A half-finished box of expensive chocolates was squashed into one corner. Wrappers had been stuffed back into the box. "The chocolate gifts are the best," said Leah. She looked around the room, took a chocolate, stuffed it into her mouth and stuffed the paper wrapper back into the box before any of the kids twigged. "Mmmmmm," her pleasure was infectious, "help yourself."

Bella looked around furtively, the bell had rung a few moments ago and the kids were filing out. She took a chocolate and stuffed it into her mouth, giggling as she stuffed the wrapper back into the drawer. Leah kicked it shut.

"Annabel!" Leah moved into action, yelling at a small girl. "Remember your coat." She stalked across the classroom and thrust a red coat with a fur lined hood into Annabel's hand. "Christopher," she bellowed at another small boy. "Stay with me, your grandparents are coming but they're running a bit late."

Bella watched Leah moving amongst the kids with ease and finally relaxed, leaning back into the desk chair with a sigh. It had taken four years but finally her goal was within touching distance. It felt like she was finally living for herself rather than for other people.

* * *

The house was empty when she got home. She got her cellphone out to ring Charlie but he had already sent a photograph of Esme eating ice cream at the parlour in town which happened to lie on the route between Esme's nursery and home. Bella sighed, knowing that she would struggle to get Esme to eat the healthy dinner that she was planning. Nevertheless, she couldn't suppress a smile at the identical grins on grandfather and granddaughter's faces as they shared a banana split.

Bella picked up a pile of mail and flicked through it. A cream envelope with a cow on the corner caught her attention. She put the rest of the mail aside and looked at it, holding the envelope with a trembling hand. Would this be the month…? She ripped open the envelope. A slip of paper fluttered out, landing on the floor. It was the same. The same cheque that she had received every month for the last fifty one months. Drawn on Cullen Ranching Inc and signed by E Cullen. There was no covering letter, no niceties, no question on how their daughter was. Just a cheque.

Tears clouded her eyes. She wiped them away angrily with the back of her sleeve. Why did it still upset her to get no response to the letters and photos that she sent so diligently?

* * *

"I want a divorce," said May. There was no inflection to her voice. It was flat. She took off her long black coat. Edward noticed that there was still dirt under her fingernails from where she had picked up a handful of dirt to throw onto her father's coffin. Her hands were white, like the snow laying on the ground outside. Edward took off his gloves. He took her cold ones in his warm ones and rubbed them vigorously to get the heat back into them. She was pliable as a ragdoll. When her hands were warmer he pulled her towards him, putting his arms around her.

"Did you hear me," she said, resting her head on his chest so that her voice was muffled by his own winter coat. "I said I want a divorce."

"I heard," said Edward. "And you can have your divorce." He stroked her hair. "It doesn't mean you don't still need me today." He felt her body relax but with that the grief finally took hold. He held her tight as the tears that she had held back at Norm's bedside, when she was making the funeral arrangements and finally when she was saying goodbye to all of the mourners finally started to fall.

* * *

"It's not all been bad," said Edward. It was evening now. A log fire crackled in the hearth, the only light in the cozy living room. "Has it?" May was curled up at the other end of a large leather sofa, a fake fur blanket draped over her knees. Her face was still red and blotchy but the crying had stopped.

"That first year was pretty bad," said May with a wry smile. Edward frowned in response. They had spent the first year living with Carlisle and Esme as the new house was being built. Edward had worked tirelessly alongside his father, with Jasper off at school and Emmett forging a new career as a television sports presenter. Every moment had been filled with hard physical labouras they struggled to keep the Wexler ranch afloat too. He had had to give up the rodeo livestock business just to keep afloat. He had been painfully aware of his duties of a husband and after a couple of disastrous blind drunk gropes May had fallen pregnant. The resultant miscarriage had been traumatic for both of them. After that May had been as distant physically as Edward was and they had fallen into a routine. Their relationship was more like that of brother and sister than man and wife.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bad husband," said Edward, softly.

"You've not," replied May, "not really". He looked at her, confused. "I've looked at this from every angle and if we hadn't got married I would probably have spent the last four years killing myself trying to keep our ranch going and keep up appearances because the stupid old goat wouldn't admit that he couldn't cope. Best case?" She took a sip of hot chocolate. "Best case I kept things going. Worst case we would fall further behind on repayments and I would have been left with nothing. At least here I've had a family and been part of a team."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," said Edward.

"Good people do bad things for the best reasons," said May. The tears began to fall again.

* * *

"What are you going to do?" asked Edward. It was the next morning and Edward was cooking bacon and eggs. He had let May lie late to recover from the emotional hardships of the previous day.

"Sell up," said May, quickly enough that Edward knew that she had been thinking about this for some time. "With the farm debt repaid I'll have enough left over to buy a house. My cousin in Phoenix has offered me a room for a few months until I get myself settled and I'm going to see about getting signed up for school."

"What would you study?" asked Edward, turning over the bacon slices in the frying pan.

"Fashion design," said May.

"Oh…" The words faded in Edward's mouth. May always bought fashion magazines. They were stuffed in every spare corner, stacked behind the sofa, on the windowsill in the bathroom. There were notepads too, stuffed with drawings. He felt embarrassed then. They had been married for four years and he hadn't even questioned his wife's obsessive purchases. "I think you'll be really good at it."

"Thanks," said May. Her cheeks coloured slightly. He put the bacon and eggs onto a plate along with some pancakes. "I'll give you first refusal on the land," said May, "but you know dad was in a lot of debt so there isn't a lot of wriggle room."

"I know," said Edward. Carlisle and Esme had carved the Cullen ranch up into four pieces a couple of years ago. Emmett had stepped away for the bright lights of television and Jasper, after a bad fall, had decided on a more academic future. Edward had raised the funds to buy his brothers shareholding out but the debt repayments were crippling. "To be honest, I've thought about selling up myself."

"Don't make any harsh decisions," said May, stuffing pancakes into her mouth. "Just because we've not worked out doesn't mean that this has to be the end of your love affair with the land too." They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, eating breakfast and sipping black coffees.

"Edward," said May, carefully, pushing the empty plate away. There was something strange in her tone that made him look up and examine her face. "I've found some accounting anomalies."

"Anomalies?" asked Edward.

"Yes," said May, "there's a payment goes out of the company bank account every month that I can't reconcile. When I asked your mother she got really weird about it."

"Weird?" echoed Edward.

"Weird," clarified May, "I would go so far as to say suspicious."

"Wait," said Edward, "are you accusing my mother of embezzling?"

"No, no…" May shook her head vigorously. "I just have a feeling. And I think you need to investigate for yourself."

* * *

Carlisle and Esme were out but they never locked the door so Edward let himself into the house. The office was the usual organised chaos with piles of paperwork sharing table space with saddles and veterinary prescriptions. The bank statements were in a lever arch folder. He flicked through. May was right. The same figure left the bank account every month by cheque. What the hell was it? The bureau where his mother did most of the paperwork had dozens of tiny drawers in it and he started systematically searching them. Grocery receipts and vet bills were filed haphazardly alongside old family photos and crumbling rosettes from state shows long past. He opened one drawer and a flash of colour caught his eye. It was a photograph, modern and glossy. He took it out. A little girl stared back at him. She had green eyes and blonde hair with a hint of strawberry in it. He reached into the drawer and grasped all of the paperwork, dropping it onto the surface of the desk and fanning it out. It was a collection of photographs of the same young girl and letters. He picked up the oldest one and started to read.


	30. Chapter 30

Bella put one hand on the front door handle. Pausing, she slipped a hand into her purse. Finding her phone missing she dumped the purse beside the front door and trotted back into the kitchen to pick up her cellphone.

Ding dong. The doorbell rang.

"That's all I need," she muttered, glancing at her watch. She scurried back into the hall and did a double take. Through the frosted glass she could see a figure with a hat on. It looked like a dark coloured cowboy hat. For a moment her stomach tightened before she took a deep breath and steadied herself. Whilst cowboy hats were rare in Forks it didn't mean that she had to have a mini breakdown every time she saw somebody wearing one. She sighed, grabbing her car keys from a decorative pot. So many of her dreams had involved Edward storming through that door, demanding to see his daughter, taking her in his arms…

Ding dong. Stunned out of her reverie she yanked the door open, ready to send the caller packing.

"Oh…" She slammed the door shut again as suddenly as she had opened it. It was him. Day old stubble, dark circles under his eyes, grim set to his jaw. Tall and lean as she remembered in dark jeans, soft flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a dark, down vest worn over it for warmth. Her knees felt suddenly wobbly, her face flushed. She had imagined this moment so many times but in the dreams she was slimmer, less mumsy, her hair was done, her legs smooth and her clothes fashionable.

Ding dong. Shit, she thought to herself, he had seen her now. Hiding was not an option. She took a deep, shuddering breath and opened the door, counting off each and every lousy cheque that he had ever sent her off in her head to remind herself how angry she was at him.

"Can I help?" She said, briskly. He looked at her. Hurt, anger, a flash of uncertainty flashed across his green eyes. Perhaps it was childish but she didn't have a lot else to cling on to at the present time.

"Bella?" he said. Whilst her name was a question his voice was far from uncertain. "It's Edward." She looked at him blankly, forcing him to continue, although underneath the mask of her face her heart was fluttering in her chest. He cleared his throat. "Edward, from Las Vegas?"

"Oh Edward," she said, twisting her face into a half fake smile as if only just remembering. "How are you?"

He pulled a fistful of paperwork from the pocket of his vest.

"I didn't know," his voice cracked, emotion welling up through his voice, infusing his eyes with anguish, letting her know how the dark circles had been created, "I didn't know…."

* * *

"Dad?" Bella was in the kitchen, holding her phone between her ear and her neck whilst putting a new filter and some grounds into the coffee machine. "Could you possibly pick Esme up from Tammy Newton's birthday party?" She turned on the tap and measured water into the pot. "No, everything's fine. It's just that something's come up." She poured the water from the pot into the top of the machine. "Esme's father." She turned the machine on. "Overnight? That would be great. Thanks dad." Bella left Edward alone while she waited for the coffee to brew. She needed a few minutes of alone time to gather her thoughts.

Edward had told her about coming to find her and seeing her with Jacob. He had shown her the pile of letters and photographs and sworn that he didn't have a clue that he had a daughter. He had been honest about his disastrous marriage and she could tell how angry he was at his Mother by the way he forced his words out through his teeth when he spoke about her. She didn't know what to think. It was so outlandish that it had the ring of truth. If he wasn't interested in knowing Esme why would he come across the country to meet her now instead of continuing to discharge his legal duty by sending cheques? Finally the coffee was ready and she didn't have an excuse any more so she poured two cups and pushed open the door to the lounge again.

"Thank you," he said, stiffly, as she set the mug down in front of him.

"No problem," replied Bella. They sat for a moment, sipping coffee, the silence between them not quite comfortable, weighed down as it was with words yet unsaid. "I tried to find you too," said Bella.

"You did?" He sounded surprised.

"Yes," replied Bella. She looked down at the mug, cradled between her hands. "Rose and I drove all the way to Fort Troy."

"Why didn't you come and talk to me then?" He sounded confused. "There's only a handful of ranches near town and only one called Cullen."

"It was your wedding day," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "I was eight and a half months pregnant and the whole town had turned out to see you get married." I was heartbroken, she thought. Even the memory made angry little tears prickle her eyes. She raised her chin, willing them away.

"I'm so sorry," said Edward, "if I'd known…" The uncomfortable electricity of missed opportunities filled the air. What would he have done if he had known? He changed the subject. "When can I see her?"

"She her?" asked Bella, incredulous.

"Yes," said Edward, "I want to see her."

"Esme doesn't know who you are," said Bella, her voice flat. "I can't just introduce you after three years." She laughed, bitterly. "I haven't even told my family about you. How on earth would I explain you just waltzing in here after three years absence?"

"That's hardly fair," said Edward, his voice rising a little. "I didn't know."

"It's not fair on Esme," she said, firmly. "We've got a hell of a lot to iron out before I get anywhere near introducing you to my daughter."

"Our daughter," corrected Edward. His eyes softened, laughter lines framing the green. "I'm really looking forward to getting things ironed out." There was something about the way that he looked at her. That intensity, the sudden hope, that made her mind suddenly flip to exactly what they could be doing to reacquaint themselves with each other. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. Esme was her priority now.

"Yes," she said. "Finances, visitation rights and what we tell Esme about your absence."

* * *

Ding dong. The doorbell again. This time she was ready, purse in hand, high heels on, second coat of lipstick carefully applied with a slightly trembling hand. She counted to ten, not wanting to look too eager, then opened the door. Edward had been back to his hotel to change and now stood at the door in dark jeans, clean cowboy boots and a dark shirt with a button down collar. She had been on dates since she had had Esme, she had even dated Mike Newton, a single father himself, for a few months, but not once had her breath caught in her throat the way it did when she saw him standing there. She stepped across the threshold and closed and locked the door behind her.

"You look lovely," he said, leading her down the path. The smell of fresh, clean man, citrussy with a hint of musk, filled her nostrils.

"Thank you," she replied. When they got to his truck he opened the door for her, then closed it firmly behind her once she had clambered into the cab. It was a newer model than the truck she had been in all those years ago although the smell was the same, leather and horse, strangely familiar and comforting.

"Let me," said Edward, taking the cheque from Bella, sneaking a look at the folded white receipt, then throwing several twenty dollar bills down on the table. He had been the perfect gentleman, holding the door of the restaurant, pulling out the seat for her to sit down, refilling her water and wine and now paying the bill. The pretty waitress had been flirting with him and whilst he had been polite he had barely given her a second glance whilst focusing all of his attention on Bella. He had listened to her talking about Esme and about her studies. He had laughed at her stories about helping Rose set up her little independent law practice in town and the DIY disasters they had encountered trying to do things on the cheap. After a while he had visibly relaxed and had begun to share things with her too. The grind of life on the farm, Emmett's new career as a sports pundit and finally the sale of the livestock.

"What about Angus?" asked Bella.

"Angus?" Edward smiled, clearly pleased that she remembered. "No," he shook his head, "Angus is family, we've still got him."

"Would May not want to keep him?" She cursed herself immediately for mentioning May as a dark cloud passed across his face.

"You can't keep ponies in the city. It's late," he changed the subject, "I had better get you home and get back to the hotel."

"Maybe," said Bella, reaching a hand across the table and taking one of his rough, callused hands between her small ones. They had been careful around each other so far, stiff, almost formal, taking care not to touch or brush against each other accidentally. He looked surprised but pleased that she had taken the initiative. She was surprised by how warm his hands were. A delicious shiver moved down her spine as she remembered what those hands had done to her.

"Maybe, you don't have to go back to the hotel."


	31. Chapter 31

Edward cleared his throat, his voice suddenly threatening not to work. Charlie was retired now, but his straight back and firm handshake hinted at a man with a strong and active past and he remained an imposing figure. His dark hair was peppered with grey at the temples and his eyes were so dark they were almost black as they sized Edward up.

"Pleased to meet you, sir."

"Likewise," Charlie kept shaking Edward's hand, regarding the other man through narrowed eyes. "I'd love to say that I'd heard lots about you…"

"I didn't know about Esme until recently," replied Edward, firmly, cutting the other man off. He took the initiative and withdrew his hand from Charlie's grip. "I intend on putting things right."

"What I don't understand," said Charlie, still looking intently at Edward in the same way that he might have looked at a perpetrator when he was in active service, "is that Bella has been receiving maintenance payments. How is that possible if you didn't know?"

Edward maintained eye contact with Charlie, although the shame of what he was about to admit made him want to hang his head. "My mother, sir," he replied, softly. "After my two brothers gave up their stake in the ranch she didn't want to lose me as well and took it upon herself to keep the news about Esme from me."

"Isn't your mother called Esme too?" Edward nodded and Charlie snorted. "The whole thing seems a bit strange in this day and age," he continued, "what with Facebook and Instagram and the internet."

"We're a little cut off on the ranch," replied Edward with a small smile, "broadband hasn't made it to Fort Troy yet."

"It took long enough to get to Forks," said Charlie, with a snort. He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. "I was on dial up until three years ago."

"We're still on it," said Edward, picking up his own coffee cup and offering a wry smile, "makes watching porn a little problematic…." As soon as the words were out Edward mentally kicked himself. It was a joke. Surely Charlie would realise it was a joke? He was coming to the conclusion that Charlie would think he was a sex fiend when Charlie burst out laughing. After a moment Edward joined in. His shoulders relaxed a little.

After knocking on Bella's door yesterday, meeting her hostile ex-policeman father was definitely one of the hardest things that he had ever done. Bella had dropped him in it by taking Sue and Esme to the store as soon as they arrived at Charlie and Sue's. Edward was dismayed at first, it felt like walking into the lion's den. However, in the moment he was glad to have this short opportunity to give an account of himself to Bella's protective father.

Yesterday had gone better than he had dared to hope. They had finally broken the ice over dinner and whilst he had slept in the spare room they had stayed up for hours drinking wine and looking at photographs and videos of Esme. He couldn't get enough of his daughter and by the end of the night they were surrounded by boxes of photographs, school reports and macaroni pictures that she had made at nursery. He was careful around her, always aware of Esme and the implications of any of his actions on their potential relationship however she had lingered longer than necessary as she had shown him the guest bath and the spare towels and the awkward fastening for the guest bedroom window blinds. As she looked into his eyes and wished him goodnight he had leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. There was a moment as they separated and he saw her eyes half glazed that he felt that things could go further but he was determined not to mess things up so he simply bid her goodnight.

"You two seem to be getting on well." Sue looked at them suspiciously as she entered the kitchen with a bag of groceries.

"He's alright," said Charlie. Sue cocked her head and Edward felt that he was missing something, some unspoken communication passing between the married couple as their eyes locked. Sue put the paper bag down on the wooden countertop and walked across to Edward.

"Sue Swan," she put her hand out. Edward was a little surprised but took the offered hand, surprisingly strong for being so small and slim. "Bella's step-mother."

"Pleased to meet you ma'am," said Edward.

"Polite," observed Sue, raising her eyebrow in a way that could have been sarcasm or surprise. "I heard that cowboys still got raised right."

"We try, ma'am," he replied, trying to look humble.

"Bella and I have discussed you on the way to the store," said Sue, suddenly all business. "We think it would be best to introduce you as a family friend at first." Edward opened his mouth to object. "I know you want to be part of her life," rushed Sue, not letting him get a word in, "but she doesn't know why she doesn't have a daddy but other boys and girls do. Her friend Tammy's mother passed away from breast cancer when she was too young to remember and we think she may assume that the same has happened to her daddy."He nodded, a lump suddenly forming in his throat.

"They're in the garden," said Sue, softly. "Bella says that you can join them when you're ready." He nodded, turning his head to look out of the kitchen window to the Swan's large and slightly overgrown garden. Bella pushed a swing, a small dark haired figure swinging backward and forward. His heart almost stopped when he heard a peal of laughter escape from her mouth.

"She has your eyes you know," said Sue, softly. She laid a hand of encouragement on his upper arm. Impulsively he put his hand over Sue's, wildly grateful for the kind words and the encouragement.

"Cowboy!" He didn't even get halfway across the garden when Esme saw him and squealed. It was all Bella could do to stop the swing moving before Esme wriggled off the low wooden board and ran across the grass towards Edward, legs moving like little pistons. She stopped suddenly, a few feet away from him, suddenly overcome by shyness. Edward could only stare at her. Sue was right, the photographs didn't do it justice, Esme's eyes were the same clear green as his own. Her hair was thick and long like Bella's but a few shades lighter. A smattering of freckles decorated her button nose.

"Hello," he said, getting down onto his knees, oblivious of the wet grass soaking his heavy denim jeans. "I'm Edward."

"This is Mummy's friend," said Bella quickly, materialising behind her suddenly with a wary expression on her face. "The one I told you about on the way back from the store."

"Mummy says you're a real cowboy," said Esme.

"I am," said Edward.

"Do you have any ponies?" asked Esme.

"What sort of a cowboy would I be if I didn't have any ponies?" said Edward.

"I love ponies!" squealed Esme.

* * *

Edward set the kitchen table for two. He could hear the murmur of Bella's voice down the corridor in Esme's room as she read a bedtime story. He was exhausted but deliriously happy, having spent the full day with Bella and Esme. He had pushed her on the swing, helped her with a puzzle and crawled around the floor like a pony with Esme squealing on his back, grinning through the pain as she kicked his ribs with her little feet in her excitement. He had even read her a story, although Bella had kept control of the bedtime routine and story time. They hadn't discussed the sleeping arrangements and he hadn't checked out of his hotel however he hoped that he would get to sleep in the spare room again.

Charlie had given them a couple of steaks and while Bella bathed Esme and read her bedtime story he had made himself useful in the kitchen. The steaks had been grilled and were in the warm oven resting, alongside jacket potatoes rubbed in olive oil and salt and wrapped in foil. The green beans were prepared and ready to saute at the last possible moment. Bella had told Edward to make himself comfortable, however he hoped it wasn't too much of an imposition that he had found a bottle of red wine in the cupboard and opened it to breathe as well as getting out large wine glasses stuffed at the back of the cupboard behind the colourful plastic beakers that Bella and Esme normally used. He had to admit, with a single freshly cut white swamp-rose in a tall stemmed vase the table didn't look half bad.

"She's asleep," said Bella, in a soft voice, padding into the kitchen in her bare feet. She looked casual but lovely in soft denim jeggings and a cosy red cardigan worn long over a cream sleeveless blouse. "This looks great." Edward didn't know whether to be pleased or put out by the surprise in her tone. "Can I help with anything?"

"No ma'am," he couldn't help but grin as he pulled out a chair and tucked it under her as she sat down. "Everything is under control. Wine?" She nodded and he poured her a generous glass.

"Thank you," she replied, taking a sip. "Mmmm…" She closed her eyes in pleasure. "Delicious. Charlie, Sue and Rose are all beer drinkers so unless I want to drink by myself I don't drink wine much. It's nice," she said, her eyes half open, gazing up at him through long lashes, "to have somebody to share with."

Edward couldn't think of an appropriate response to that question so he turned his attention back to the food. The pan was already warming so he threw in unsalted butter and garlic, waiting until the butter was bubbling before throwing in the green beans. He tossed them occasionally as he took the plates, steaks and potatoes from the oven and plated them up. When the beans were tender he grated a little parmesan over the top and arranged them carefully on the plates.

"Voila," he said, setting the plate down carefully in front of her. They ate mostly in silence, punctuated by little squeals of delight from Bella as she commented on the tenderness of the meat, the deliciousness of the sautéed green beans and even the fluffiness of the jacket potatoes. Edward couldn't help but let the compliments go to his head a little.

When she had finished he stood up and took her plate away, intending to stack the dishwasher.

"Dishwasher's broken I'm afraid," sighed Bella. "It's good old soap and water in this house."

"I could look at it," said Edward.

"No," said Bella, putting her hand on the white appliance. "You've done enough. You don't need to fix things too."

"Maybe," said Edward, putting his hand over Bella's, "maybe I want to fix things. Maybe the thing that I want most in the world it to make everything right." Bella exhaled. She was so close that he could feel her breath on his face, could smell that familiar floral scent, see the warm dark pools of her eyes.

"Maybe," she whispered, turning her hand over so that their hands were facing each other and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for their fingers to interlace, "we need to start building something new instead of fixing something old." Her free hand moved to his waist. He couldn't tear his eyes from hers as she stood on her tip-toes and planted an excruciatingly gentle kiss on his lips. He couldn't bear it and in a moment he had taken her in his arms, a little moan of delight escaping from her lips as he kissed her hard, all of the longing and sorrow of the last three years fuelling his feverish kisses. She responded in kind, clinging to him, kissing him back with abandon. After a few moments her hands started to pull his shirt from the waistband of his jeans. He paused for a moment, searching her face for doubt or confusion yet there was none. She took his hand and led him down the corridor toward her bedroom, stopping on the way to pull Esme's door fully shut.

* * *

Edward woke early, as was his habit. Watery morning light filtered in through the corners of the curtains. For a moment he was confused, yet as a voice sighed the happy contentment of sleep and snuggled further into his back he remembered. His stomach leapt in happiness, he couldn't remember being this happy in a long time. He reached up to the nightstand to check the time.

"What time is it?" came a muffled voice.

"Sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to wake you." He focused on the hands of his watch. "Almost six AM."

"Don't worry," she said, "when you have a kid you always sleep light." She pushed back the comforter and sat up, holding it across her naked breasts as she turned on the bedside light. They both winced for a moment, although the light was soft and warm. "You have to be gone by the time Esme wakes up." Edward opened his mouth to complain then thought better of it, squashing down his romantic image of making a cooked breakfast for Bella and Esme, spending their first morning together as a real family. "I don't have men to stay over," she said, firmly, "and I want Esme to know who you are before she finds you here in the morning."

"Understood," said Edward. He pulled back his side of the comforter and swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the backs of his hands. "I can't wait to get you both back to the ranch."

"Oh?" replied Bella.

"You'll love the sunsets," said Edward, pulling on the boxer shorts that he had discarded on the carpet. "It really is beautiful. There's a new range in the kitchen and we can teach Esme to ride on Angus."

"Really?" For a moment Edward thought there was frost in Bella's voice. He twisted around and smiled at her, before standing up and pulling his jeans up over his legs. "A range?" she said. "Have you got me cooking and cleaning for you already? I work. I told you that."

"I can take care of you both," said Edward, amazed that she couldn't see what he was offering. "You won't have to work."

"So," she said, a little louder. This time he was sure that her tone was confrontational. He paused, his shirt on but buttons not yet done up. "We spend one night together and you've got me and Esme already moved in at the ranch playing happy families."

"Yes?" He was confused. Was that a question or an accusation. "The family business is there, it makes sense."

"My life and my family and my work is here," said Bella. She sounded angry. "I'm a few weeks away from being a fully qualified teacher and Esme is settled into nursery with plenty of family and friends nearby."

"But…"

"No buts Edward," she spat. "I spent too many years drifting along at the whim of a man, living somebody else's life instead of my own and that's a mistake I'm never going to make again. You can visit Esme and we'll build up to letting her know who you are, but this," she circled her hand over the bed and the discarded clothes, "this can never happen again. We can never happen."


End file.
